


when it rains, remember me

by yoobles



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Busking, Dialogue Heavy, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff at the beginning, Heartache, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know, I'm Sorry, JooHyuk, Lots of Crying, M/M, Panic attack?, READ NOTES, Sad, Sick Character, Sickfic?, Swearing, Time Skips, Unrequited Love?, before everything goes to shit, drummer!jooheon, emotional and physical suffering, lots of lighthearted fun, pov switches?, this is a mess, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24049474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoobles/pseuds/yoobles
Summary: Jooheon knows, that despite everything they've been through, he'd rewind time and do it all again.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Yoo Kihyun, Im Changkyun | I.M/Lee Hoseok | Wonho, Lee Jooheon/Lee Minhyuk
Comments: 34
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

A breath.

Two.

Jooheon counts the numbers in his head. A routine. He knows how it works. This is familiar.

Another breath.

The numbers count down in his head between each exhale, and his thumb rubs down the side of the drumstick clutched tightly in his left hand, trembling and numb all at once. When he finally opens his eyes, he barely catches the haze of white that accompanies his every breath before his gaze returns to the microphone.

The first word that leaves his lips is the key to the ignition. His fingers grasp tighter onto the drumsticks, and in one quick motion, he lowers them onto the cymbals to kickstart the beat. The rhythm comes easy now, his foot familiarizing itself with the pedal like usual. The couple before him turns into four, five, and Jooheon grins, watching as a small crowd surrounds him, phones held in the air, their eyes wide with amazement. It doesn’t matter if it isn’t the biggest audience, doesn’t matter if there’s two people or a million; Jooheon focuses on the way his heart thumps to the beat, the way the sweat trickling down his back forces his thin T-shirt to cling against skin—he really should have brought a jacket—or the way his fingers graze against the edge of the cymbals as he aims for the mid toms.

He spits into the microphone, cheeks blushing against the cold, firing verses out of his mouth like they’re waiting to jump off his tongue and into the wind. Jooheon likes the feel of the wind. It reminds him that this rush of adrenaline and feeling of ecstasy is real.

Heaving the final verse, Jooheon finishes with a bang to the drums. Except he doesn’t calculate the extent of his strength, and finds it too late to rewind the second that it takes for his drumstick to fly out of his right hand and into the crowd. It’s almost in slow-motion, the way the audience scatters and the drumstick lands with a resounding _thwack_ against the head of an unsuspecting victim.

“ _Oh, shit!”_

Jooheon drops the second drumstick and rushes forward, arms outstretched in apology. The man, eyes trained on the floor, takes three steps and leans down to pick up the fallen drumstick. Jooheon holds in a breath. The crowd starts to dissipate completely but Jooheon pays them no mind as the catapulted drumstick is now held out for him to take. He nods, fingers wrapped around the hickory wood until he spares the man another glance. And he regrets it instantly. There’s a face to the man now, and the breath that Jooheon’s been holding suddenly lodges itself deep within his throat.

He’s face to face with beauty personified: straight nose sloping down into a boyish smile accentuating the dark eyes that stare back at him, curled into crescents. Jooheon wants to say something instead of gawk like a deprived idiot but he coughs instead, the hand that clutches his drumstick knocking on his chest in an effort to clear his airways.

“I enjoyed your performance,” the man—sculpture?—says, his smile widening as he beams at Jooheon. Jooheon absolutely thinks he’s going to go blind at the perfection before him.

“Uh, drumstick,” Jooheon splutters, much to his horror.

“Drumstick?” The stranger cocks his head, a laugh at the tip of his tongue.

“No, um, I mean,” Jooheon blushes, “Thank you. And, uh, I’m sorry about the drumstick.”

“Are you really?”

Eyes wide, Jooheon stares incredulously, “Huh?”

The stranger smiles, almost coyly, and pulls at his sleeve to check his watch. “If you’re so sorry, you should buy me a meal as an apology.”

Jooheon’s jaw drops. “What?”

“A meal,” another look at his watch, “Or, since it’s pretty late, maybe a drink?”

A moment of hesitation.

“Jooheon.”

The man looks up from his watch.

Jooheon wipes the sweat off his brow and attempts a smile, “I figured if I’m going to buy you a drink, you might as well know my name.” He walks back toward his old drum set, hands aching and stiff as he begins packing up equipment.

One quick glance back over his shoulder, and Jooheon can tell the stranger is surprised, maybe even hopeful.

“Lee Minhyuk.”

 _Minhyuk_. Jooheon smiles discreetly as he folds up his microphone.

“Can I help?”

“I’ve got someone coming by soon to help me load all of this into a truck.”

“Not a lover, I hope?” Jooheon can’t tell whether it’s a joke or a genuine question. Or maybe it’s flirting, but Jooheon doesn’t want to think about that because being unaware seems to reward all those main characters with happy endings.

“No, soulmates.”

“You’ve got more than one?” Minhyuk gasps.

Jooheon barks out a laugh, losing his balance and falling knees-forward onto the cement. “God, no, I couldn’t be soulmates with those idiots.” Minhyuk notes the way Jooheon speaks with a fond twinkle in his eye. “Those two are soulmates. We’ve all known each other before they found out, too. Pretty crazy if you ask me.”

Minhyuk nods, suddenly quiet. Jooheon raises his head and gestures to the speaker beside him, “Hey, if you really want to help, I’m not going to stop you.” A smile lights up Minhyuk’s face again and Jooheon decides he likes the look of it a lot.

A sudden honk to his right alerts him of a familiar presence. Jooheon grins at the figure that exits the passenger side of the van. Minhyuk follows his gaze. A shorter man with a slim frame and a comically stark opposite man with broad shoulders and biceps the size of footballs begin to approach them and Minhyuk doesn’t know if he should run away or stay and help. It’s the curiosity and desire to figure Jooheon out that has him choosing the latter.

“You were supposed to be here earlier,” Jooheon pouts. “You missed my entire performance.”

The bigger man frowns and replies, “Sorry, Joo. We got stuck in traffic,” at the same time the smaller one says, “Nearly ran over some kids.”

Jooheon’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “ _Nearly_ , right?”

“Well, if Hongdae weren’t always packed full of buskers, maybe we could have avoided the issue entirely.”

Minhyuk spares a moment to cough, tugging the scarf around his neck further up toward his lips, and finds three pairs of eyes stare at him openly. “Sorry,” he says, itching at his throat.

“Oh, Jooheon!” The buff man exclaims, almost excitedly. “Is this _him_?”

“ _Who?”_ Jooheon squints his eyes in confusion.

“Your soulmate!”

Both Jooheon and Minhyuk choke simultaneously, and it would have been a funny sight if it weren’t such a health hazard.

“He—what—I—“ Jooheon finally composes himself and breathes in deeply. “Why does everyone keep asking about my soulmate?”

Minhyuk shrugs and turns to face Jooheon’s friends with a friendly smile. “I’m Minhyuk. Jooheon and I met approximately twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m Hoseok. This is Changkyun,” the muscle man says, thumb pointed at the other one with a hand outstretched. Minhyuk takes it gratefully. It’s always awkward to be the initiator.

“I can introduce myself just fine, thanks.” Hoseok rolls his eyes at his soulmate’s comment and smiles at Minhyuk.

“Are you sure they’re soulmates?” Minhyuk questions Jooheon, who chuckles knowingly.

“They act like that all the time. I’m pretty sure they would have never found out if Changkyun hadn’t accidentally face-planted onto Hoseok’s face after tripping over the carpet.”

“That’s what he tells you,” Hoseok shakes his head. “Bet he’s been planning that for ages. _Accidentally_ , my ass.”

“Why were you even on the floor?”

“Fate put me there because it knew you were planning that fall.”

“Shut up, hyung.”

“I love you.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Kyun, say it back, or I’ll be really sad.”

“Fuck, fine, I love you, now help me grab the drum set.”

Hoseok’s giggle and Changkyun’s exasperated sigh paint a smile on Minhyuk’s face. Watching the two of them almost feels like he’s intruding. Like he’s seeing something that’s meant to be a private moment. Minhyuk can’t help but wonder what it’s like to experience being there, in that intimate space.

Jooheon notes the way Minhyuk startles when he sets a hand on the other’s shoulder, an apologetic grimace on his face. “I’d like to buy you a drink, but I’m busy with packing up my stuff, and I don’t want to burden them,” he gestures to the scene of a groaning Changkyun with a pouting Hoseok clinging to the younger’s back, “With bringing everything back to my apartment without me. But maybe rain check?”

Jooheon stares silently at Minhyuk, hoping that his words are enough of a hint, and cheers internally when Minhyuk bites the bait.

“I’ll give you my number, then.”

Jooheon nods, almost too enthusiastically. “Great! Er, I mean, okay, cool. That’s fine with me.”

Minhyuk laughs, loud, in a high-pitched sort of sound, and Jooheon just stands there with a smile growing subconsciously on his face as he digs for his phone and pulls it out from his back pocket dramatically.

“I really did enjoy your performance. You’re an amazing rapper.” Minhyuk’s blond hair ruffles lightly in the breeze. Jooheon resists the urge to touch the stray strands.

“Thank you. That really means a lot.” And it does. Jooheon can’t imagine a life without his drums. Without music. It’s a reminder that he’s that much closer to achieving his dreams, dreams he hasn’t yet specified to even himself. He’ll get there one day.

“We can talk later. Right now, I don’t want to keep you distracted when you’re busy.” Minhyuk coughs into his scarf and tucks a hand into the pocket of his jeans. “You can head back to your friends. Tell them it was nice meeting them.”

“I will,” Jooheon says, suddenly shy again. The implication of “later” induces a weird sort of warm feeling that settles in his fingertips, climbs up his arms, and seeps into his chest. Maybe it’s the heat finally coming back after the cold numbed his hands or maybe he’s just imagining it. Whatever the feeling, it’s nice.

Jooheon waves awkwardly and watches as Minhyuk turns around and walks away, the hood of his cream sweater doing little bounces with every step.

“Sure he’s not your soulmate?” Changkyun’s deep voice in his ear frightens him and Jooheon whacks the younger on the shoulder before exhaling deeply.

“Do you think he is?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Jooheon blushes and shakes his head. “I don’t think it will get that far, Kyun.”

“Why not? I’ve got a good feeling about that one.”

“It just won’t. I’ve got a feeling too.”

—•—

Jooheon wonders if maybe that feeling was too right. And far too soon. The “delivered” sign on his phone stares at him mockingly, and Jooheon spends another minute re-reading his text message. Maybe he worded it oddly. Or maybe he came off as too desperate. Or maybe it’s the wrong number? Jooheon hopes it’s that. That kind of embarrassment would be less humiliating than a rejection.

“Hyunwoo. Are they blatantly ignoring you if they haven’t responded to your text?”

The older man looks up from his book on the couch and raises an eyebrow. “How long has it been since you sent it?”

“Eighteen—no, nineteen? Minutes ago.”

“They could be busy.”

“But _hyung_. He gave me his number. Then shouldn’t he be expecting a text?”

Hyunwoo’s eyes widen a fraction. “Someone gave you their number?”

“You don’t have to look so surprised,” Jooheon mumbles, bringing his attention back to his phone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I just,” Hyunwoo pauses, and then says softly, “I just didn’t know you were searching for someone.”

“I wasn’t. It’s just that, last night, I hit someone with my drumstick.”

Hyunwoo nearly chokes. “You _what?”_

“Yeah, it just flew out of my hand and hit him on the head. I felt really bad. I still do.”

The older man sighs in relief, fingers nudging the glasses further up the bridge of his nose. He sets his book on the coffee table and sits up straighter on the couch, arm wrapped around a cushion. He urges for Jooheon to continue.

“He asked me out. At least, I think so. He asked me to buy him a drink for hitting him.” Jooheon frowns. “But we couldn’t last night, so that’s why I’m texting him. Except he’s not responding.”

“Have you tried calling?”

“Wouldn’t that be too desperate? I may be inexperienced, but I know that much.”

Hyunwoo chuckles in amusement. “If he really wants to have a drink with you, he’d be excited for your call.” He doesn’t know why he’s giving advice, he hasn’t had any experience, too, after all.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re so smart, Hyunwoo. This is why we’re roommates.”

Hyunwoo laughs quietly to himself as he grabs his book and picks up where he left off. He likes to think they’re roommates because he’s Jooheon’s favorite out of their group of friends, but whatever makes Jooheon happy.

The sound of the automated voice message system stretches the frown on Jooheon’s face. He picks at the fabric of the couch and attempts to call again when his phone lights up with Minhyuk’s caller ID. Jooheon answers in a heartbeat.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Oh,” all the words Jooheon’s been wanting to say dies on his tongue. “Oh, hi.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I was at the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Jooheon's stomach lurches. “Are you okay?” He half wonders if it’s reasonable to be this concerned for someone he barely spent twenty minutes with.

“I’m fine,” Minhyuk breathes into the receiver, “It’s just a routine check-up. Are you free?”

Jooheon knows not to pry. He instead welcomes Minhyuk’s change of subject. “I am. I was wondering if you were.”

“Now I am. It’s noon, so I don’t really feel like drinking right now, but let’s get lunch together.” Jooheon appreciates Minhyuk’s boldness and blunt honesty. He hopes Minhyuk is a trustworthy person. Not that they’ll be anything more than just a two-week fling; his conversation with Changkyun makes a brief, unwanted appearance in his mind.

“Okay, I’ve got somewhere in mind. I’ll take a cab to your place and pick you up, unless you feel uncomfortable with sending me your address. Then I’ll just send you the restaurant’s.”

“No, um, I’m fine with the cab.” Jooheon stumbles over his words a bit, embarrassed. On the other end of the couch, Hyunwoo flips a page.

“Perfect. I’ll see you soon?”

“Sure.”

When the call ends, Jooheon clutches his phone tightly to his chest, eyes shut. He can’t believe this is happening. He’s got his first date after twenty-two years. His little experimentation period with Changkyun during his second year of college doesn’t count. Hyunwoo’s gentle kick to the thigh pulls Jooheon out of his excited reverie. The older is regarding him with an unreadable gaze, “Shouldn’t you get ready?”

“You’re right. You’re always right. Thanks.”

Hyunwoo snorts, “Of course I am,” and then his gaze melts into an oozing sort of warmth. “You know, you deserve this.”

“A beautiful man to ask me out after I hit him with a drumstick?”

“Yes, that.”

—•—

Minhyuk, Jooheon realizes, is a talkative person. And even though he can’t keep up sometimes, he still likes listening to the passion in the older’s voice when he’s talking about the children at the daycare he works at, or his favorite childhood ice cream shop down the street that closed down a year ago, or how he shouldn’t have worn his favorite turtleneck sweater while eating because it was bound to get stained. Jooheon likes listening to Minhyuk talk.

“So, what about you? What are some of your likes and dislikes? Thoughts? Unanswered questions? Morbid curiosities?” Minhyuk asks, his eyes dancing with anticipation, even as he coughs into the sleeve of his sweater.

“Whoa,” Jooheon says between bites of dumpling, opening his mouth to let the hot steam escape. “You’re asking for all of my deep, dark secrets already?”

“Why not?” Minhyuk chortles. “Best to get it over and done with on the first date.”

“D-Date?”

“What else would it be?”

Jooheon feels the warmth gather obnoxiously in his cheeks and forgets how to chew until the dumpling scalds his tongue.

“Cute,” Minhyuk remarks, and Jooheon nearly dies on the spot. Cause of death: dumpling particles stuck in the wrong pipe.

“Cute?”

“Are you just going to repeat what I say?” Minhyuk guffaws. The look of pure mischief and glee on his face is pure and innocent. Jooheon thinks the older vaguely resembles a puppy.

“Have you found a soulmate yet?” He finds himself asking. It‘s a question that burned at the back of his mind since the second he first met eyes with the older.

Minhyuk stiffens, spoon trembling ever so slightly in his grasp. He sets it down onto the table and purses his lips.

“Sorry, why did I ask? Of course not. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here with me,” Jooheon says, smile faltering at the sight of Minhyuk’s visible discomfort.

“No, you’re fine.” Minhyuk pulls at his turtleneck. Hides in it, almost. Jooheon doesn’t like the sudden awkward atmosphere.

“I think it’s stupid, the way we discover our soulmates,” he says quickly. Minhyuk eyes him questioningly. “What if you invest in a relationship until you kiss that person and realize they weren’t your soulmate all along? Do I have to constantly kiss every stranger I meet to verify whether they’re my soulmate or not?”

Minhyuk listens for a change. Now Jooheon’s doing the talking, and he doesn’t mind, but Minhyuk’s sudden change in demeanor is a little alarming.

“And what if I don’t ever want to kiss somebody? Will I never find out who my soulmate is, then? I don’t—“

“Jooheon.”

Jooheon’s mouth shuts on command, eyes trailing upward until they meet Minhyuk’s.

“I have to tell you something.” There’s an edge to the older’s voice that worries Jooheon. Minhyuk doesn’t seem to be the serious type.

“Okay.”

Minhyuk clasps his fingers together and stares at the last dumpling left on the platter.

“I don’t have one.”

“One what?” Jooheon can hear his own heartbeat; he’s sure Minhyuk can, too.

“Soulmate.” Minhyuk leans back, rolling his shoulders like they’re finally free of the burden of carrying such a heavy secret. “I don’t have a soulmate.”

Jooheon blinks.

Minhyuk nudges him the last dumpling.

He pays the check and they both leave the restaurant, the dumpling left untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to study for finals but my fingers can't stay away from the keyboard.
> 
> Thus, I present to you this mess.


	2. Chapter 2

_“What happens now that we’re soulmates?” Hoseok smiles awkwardly, hands twitching at his sides. His eyes flit back and forth between the table and Changkyun._

_“We act like normal,” the youngest says. His own hands are folded neatly on his lap. Though he tries not to make it obvious, it’s clear to anyone within a ten-mile radius that he’s avoiding eye contact with Hoseok. Changkyun, though mostly unpredictable and enigmatic, can be transparent at times._

_“Why are we standing here watching this go down?” Hyunwoo says._

_Jooheon shrugs._

_“And on my birthday, too,” Changkyun groans._

_Hoseok flinches. “Am I that bad?” Past his joking tone, Jooheon can see the underlying hurt in his eyes._

_“No, hyung. Never,” Changkyun says, finally meeting Hoseok’s eyes. Tentatively, his hand reaches out to rest on the older’s thigh. “I’m really glad it’s you.”_

_Hoseok smiles, and his eyes are a little bit watery, and Jooheon kicks Hyunwoo underneath the table to grab Hoseok a tissue, but oh no, it’s too late, and now Changkyun is nervously holding his newfound soulmate against his chest, wincing as Hoseok hugs him back, pressing right into the bruise that the edge of the table gave him during his fall. Thank God he landed on Hoseok’s chest, though, that wasn’t a particularly soft landing either._

Let’s leave _, Hyunwoo mouths, and Jooheon nods in agreement._

_In the car ride back, Hyunwoo can’t help but grin. “I’m happy for them.”_

_“Me too. I’m glad they have each other. And that Changkyun’s wish didn’t come true.”_

_Hyunwoo rotates the steering wheel and makes a right. “What wish?”_

_“That he doesn’t have a soulmate.”_

_The smile is immediately wiped off of Hyunwoo’s face. “Why would he wish that?”_

_“Beats me.”_

_“That’s dangerous.”_

_Jooheon turns to stare at Hyunwoo in confusion. “Why is that dangerous? Because you live forever alone?” He laughs but it fades into silence when Hyunwoo doesn’t laugh with him._

_“No. Jooheon, not everyone is born with soulmates. You know that, right?”_

_"Well, there’s got to be some anomalies.”_

_“There are a very few rare cases that are born without soulmates,” Hyunwoo explains. His fingers tap incessantly against the wheel in no particular pattern. “Those people don’t live very long.”_

_“Why not? They’re human, too,” Jooheon says._

_“We were made to live with someone by our sides. Without a soulmate, the heartache becomes unbearable. It gets painful, makes you really physically sick, until your body gives out.” Hyunwoo’s voice stays steady, but his finger tapping gets increasingly louder._

_Jooheon looks out the window as a chill runs down his spine. “That… That can’t really be true, right? I mean, how would they know that’s the cause of death? It could be anything.”_

_“We learned this at school. It’s written on your birth certificate, whether you’ve got one or not. It’s a little mark on the fetus that appears sometime during the fourth month and disappears before you’re born.”_

_Jooheon turns back to face Hyunwoo just as the car pulls into the parking lot. “How do you remember all that?”_

_“Didn’t you pay attention?”_

_“No. Never thought I would need to.”_

—•—

Jooheon dips beneath the covers. It’s hot and suffocating one moment and then cold— _and still suffocating_ —the next. He recalls the way Minhyuk’s eyes lit up at the discovery that dumplings are his favorites. The triumph on his face at the fact that he somehow guessed his first try. He recalls Minhyuk’s animated voice when talking about his friend named Kihyun who always nags about cleaning the apartment and his other friend, Hyungwon, who somehow sleeps 24/8 a day. He recalls the way the older slid him the last dumpling, and then the disappointment when Jooheon refused and asked to leave.

He startles himself when his hand darts out to grab for his phone in the darkness. The clock reads an alarming 2:47 a.m. and Jooheon, despite being alert and awake, makes the decision to send an apology text. Short and sweet.

**Lee Jooheon:** I’m sorry.

02:47 AM

**Drumstick:** For what?

02:48 AM

Jooheon throws off the covers and shoots upright at the quick response.

**Lee Jooheon:** For brushing you off today

02: 51 AM

**Drumstick:** You don’t need to apologize for that! I’m sorry I just threw it at you out of nowhere

02:53 AM

**Lee Jooheon:** No, I’m glad you told me. Must not have been easy

02:54 AM

**Drumstick:** Yeah, it wasn’t. I’m used to people running away when I tell them

03:00 AM

**Lee Jooheon:** I’m sorry.

03:01 AM

**Drumstick:** Don’t apologize.

Can you call?

It’s okay if you can’t.

03:04 AM

**Lee Jooheon:** I can.

03:04 AM

Jooheon waits with bated breath. He tangles his legs with the bedsheets and runs a hand through his hair several times before grabbing the phone when it rings. He’s nervous.

“Hello?” He says, quietly, partially because he’s still unsure about the situation, and also because he’s afraid he’ll wake Hyunwoo in the other room if he speaks any louder.

“Mm.” Minhyuk’s voice is gentle, tentative, too.

“I’m sorry.”

He hears Minhyuk’s breathy laugh come through the receiver. “I said stop apologizing.”

“Then can I buy you a meal next time? Like I promised? You paid today, which was stupid.”

Minhyuk’s laugh comes louder now, the same genuine and innocent laugh that Jooheon likes hearing. “So, what? There’s a next time now?”

“Yes. Our first date.”

“Our first date was today.”

Jooheon shakes his head, adjusting his position to lie sideways on the bed, phone tightly pressed against his ear. “No, our first date is next time. I want to start over.”

“Start over? I quite liked the way we met in the first try. Nothing beats a good drumstick ambush. Especially not after watching the most amazing performance by a man who has serious rap skills on top of a charming, dimpled smile.”

“I _knew_ it was my dimples that got you. It was never my face or my personality, was it?” Jooheon pouts. He’s lucky Minhyuk can’t see him, otherwise, the older would pinpoint the growing red on his cheeks.

“Next time, then?” His voice is much quieter now, barely even a whisper. He hopes Minhyuk heard him, because he doesn’t have the courage to say it again.

“Jooheon.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to feel obligated to date me.” Something in Jooheon’s chest tosses and turns uncomfortably. “You can back out now before I get attached.”

“Will you get attached?” Jooheon asks.

“I probably will. And then I won’t be able to let you go.”

“Don’t you think saying that to me now is going too fast?”

“Nothing’s too fast when you’re running out of time,” comes Minhyuk’s soft reply.

No words leave Jooheon’s mouth. Instead, he listens to the way Minhyuk’s breath comes through the receiver, eyes trained on the clouded moon outside the window.

“Okay,” Jooheon whispers.

“Okay what?” There’s static, and a cough in the background.

“Okay, let’s date.”

—•—

When fall turns to winter, and winter to spring, Jooheon dials Minhyuk’s number by heart.

“I have an idea for our fourth official date.”

Minhyuk sighs into the speaker, though Jooheon can hear his smile, “Joo, I swear if you say going to the zoo one more time, I’m going to make Kihyun have you clean all our dishes.” It’s a valid point; Jooheon met Kihyun once and was thoroughly scared by how meticulous the guy is about cleaning.

“Why _not_ the zoo?” Jooheon whines, flopping onto the couch. Hyunwoo is in the kitchen, attempting to make lunch. Jooheon knows by the smell of fried rice, one of three things Hyunwoo excels at cooking.

“I can’t anyway, today. I have my hospital appointment.”

Jooheon frowns, sitting up and bringing the phone to his other ear. “Are you hurting more?” It’s no secret that Minhyuk’s health has been deteriorating and Jooheon can only sit and watch helplessly. He feels useless, hopeless, and useless again every time Minhyuk uses his energy to comfort him when it should be the other way around.

“No, I’m fine. Hospital check-ups are normal for me, and it’s not because I’m sicker than yesterday. It’s because the hospital has been keeping tabs on me since I was born to do some research on cases with no soulmates. I’m basically there to help.”

“You’re their lab rat,” Jooheon says, upset.

“Don’t say it like that.”

Jooheon bites down on his tongue. There’s much more he wants to say, but he knows Minhyuk would probably hang up, and that’s the last thing he wants.

“Can I be there?”

“At my appointment?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would you want to?”

“To be with you.”

The way the words flow so smoothly like second-nature out of his mouth is scary and dangerous. Jooheon wishes he bit down on his tongue harder. For a tense moment, there’s silence, and then a small laugh. Happy. Relieved.

“Of course you can.”

“Great. Text me the address.”

“Okay. The appointment’s at two. Drive safely.”

“Same goes for you.”

“You idiot, did you forget I don’t drive?” Minhyuk giggles into the phone. It’s such a simple sound but it makes Jooheon’s heart stretch and twist into knots. “I usually ask Hyungwon or take the cab. Oh, by the way, tell Hyunwoo I said hi.”

Jooheon holds the phone away from his ear and presses the speaker button. “Hyunwoo, Minhyuk says hi.”

Hyunwoo turns around, wooden spoon in hand with a coffee-stained apron hugging his waist. Jooheon barks out a laugh at the sight.

“Hi, Minhyuk!” His booming voice easily reaches the phone. Minhyuk’s tinkling laughter in the background makes Jooheon feel warm.

“I love your roommate. Can I trade him? It’s a good deal, you get two for one because Kihyun and Hyungwon come in a package.”

“No way, I’d be third-wheeling my whole life.”

“How do you think _I_ feel?”

Hyunwoo hears and laughs all the way from the kitchen.

“Why don’t we meet up and drive to the appointment together instead?” Jooheon says, changing the subject.

“Yeah, let’s do that. I think it would make me relax more before I enter the hospital.”

Jooheon nods. “I’ll pick you up at your place?”

“Sounds good.”

1:30 p.m. comes later than Jooheon would have liked, but Hyunwoo blames it on the way Jooheon sat staring at the clock for almost an hour—even during lunch—watching as the minute hand ticked once every three years. The wait is worth it, though, because the second Minhyuk enters the car smelling like fresh laundry and vanilla ice cream, Jooheon knows he’s already invested.

“I’m nervous,” Minhyuk says, tugging at the seatbelt as the hospital comes into view.

“Why? I’m here,” Jooheon says, taking the keys out of the ignition.

“Maybe that’s why.” Minhyuk exits the car a moment after Jooheon, hands balled tightly into his T-shirt. “It could be a good thing,” he adds.

The walk to the hospital is more nerve-wracking than the first time Jooheon decided to throw caution to the wind and rap on the streets of Hongdae with an upturned bucket for a drum. That was a while ago, but he could still taste the adrenaline and the fear.

“You’re more nervous than me,” Minhyuk says in surprise.

Jooheon doesn’t tell him it’s because he’s afraid of what he might see, or what he might hear. This is the first time he’ll have a front-row view of Minhyuk’s pain. Or at least, the talk of it.

A sudden tap at his hand makes him freeze in place, and when cold fingers wrap around his, Jooheon whips around to face Minhyuk. The older gives no indication that he feels like anything is weird or out of place, and it takes Jooheon a few seconds to realize that the only weird thing is that it feels natural.

“My hands are sweaty,” he protests, embarrassed. Minhyuk clutches his hand tighter.

“So? Mine are too.”

“But mine are literally drowning right now.”

“I don’t care,” Minhyuk huffs, squeezing his fingers between Jooheon’s so that their hands are completely intertwined. Jooheon glances around at the waiting room where a boy sitting beside his mother stares blatantly at their clasped hands. Jooheon tugs but Minhyuk holds firm, continuing to grasp Jooheon’s hand even tighter as if to prove a point.

“Ow.” The hold loosens just slightly, and Jooheon hides a smile behind his other hand.

“Lee Minhyuk?”

Minhyuk pulls Jooheon to the front desk where he checks in with the receptionist and Jooheon chews on his lip silently as they’re guided down the hall toward an empty room.

When the door shuts closed behind them, Jooheon jumps, and Minhyuk chuckles. “The doctor will be with us in a moment,” he says, “It doesn’t take her long.”

Minhyuk sits at the edge of the available hospital bed, and Jooheon turns to sit at a chair a few feet away but Minhyuk’s hand pulls him back. Their hands are still very much joined, and while it’s starting to soak even further in sweat, Jooheon can’t say he’s disappointed. He likes the feeling of Minhyuk’s hand in his. Likes the way the older’s fingers are lithe and long and soft.

“I’m going to go sit over there,” Jooheon says, making a gesture to the chair. But Minhyuk doesn’t look at it.

“Just sit here with me.”

“I can’t. You’re the patient, and I’m just here for company. I can’t be in the doctor’s way.”

Minhyuk frowns for a long time, eyes burning holes into their coupled hands, and then finally lets go. Jooheon stands idly, hand still outstretched toward Minhyuk before he gently tugs it back toward his side. Before he could say anything, the door opens again and a team of doctors enters with a clipboard and note-taking devices. Jooheon is pushed back against the wall, forced to observe the situation. When he sees the startled look on Minhyuk’s face, he realizes something’s wrong.

“Hello, Minhyuk. I’m pleased to see that you look like you’re doing better than last week,” a woman speaks. She’s the one with the clipboard.

“I didn’t know there would be more than one doctor today,” Minhyuk utters in response, eyes scanning the room. His eyes meet briefly with Jooheon’s, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“I’ve been alerted that you brought company with you.”

“Yes.”

“Is he a friend? Relative?”

Jooheon sees Minhyuk breathe in, breath caught in his own throat.

“We’re a little more than friends.”

Honest. Just like Minhyuk always is.

The woman looks up from her clipboard to Minhyuk, to Jooheon, and then back to Minhyuk. “Is that helping you?”

“I’ve been happier lately.”

“I see.”

The doctors all begin to write on their devices. Jooheon stands still, afraid to make a noise.

“And what about your coughing?”

There’s something about her question that’s familiar. And then Jooheon remembers. He remembers the way Minhyuk hid his coughs into his sweaters or the way he could hear coughing through the phone, muffled, like someone was deliberately holding the phone away at a distance.

“It’s been okay.”

“And the chest pains?”

Jooheon narrows his eyes. That’s new.

“Barely there.”

“But still there?”

Minhyuk nods. The doctors scribble frantically on their tablets.

“You should take it easy.”

“I haven’t been doing anything wild,” Minhyuk says. “But going outside makes me feel good.”

“Going outside could do more harm than good.” Minhyuk furrows his eyebrows, fingers scratching at the crinkly paper on the hospital bed. “So I can’t go outside?”

“You can. But it’s going to get harder for you.”

“I don’t care if it kills me faster, I’m not going to give up having a normal life.”

Jooheon freezes, fingernails digging into his palms. The bite in Minhyuk’s voice scares him.

“I can’t stop you, I suppose.”

For the rest of the appointment, Jooheon stares at the floor, wanting nothing more than to take Minhyuk and bolt out of the room. After the final doctor leaves, he rushes toward the older and grabs his hand. “Let’s go.”

Minhyuk nods silently, and like that, they exit into the parking lot and enter the car. Jooheon doesn’t start the engine until he reassures himself that Minhyuk is fine. When the car starts, Minhyuk finally speaks.

“Don’t take me home.”

“Why?”

“Let’s go eat ice cream.”

“Right now?”

“I’ll pay,” Minhyuk smiles.

“That’s not the problem. From now on, you should stay inside most of the time.”

The smile immediately falls from Minhyuk’s face and Jooheon almost regrets his words.

“Don’t say that, too,” Minhyuk says.

“It’s a life or death situation now.”

“A life or death situation regarding _my_ life.”

A retort sits at the tip of Jooheon’s tongue, but he doesn’t want to argue. Not right now. Not when the appointment has him shaken and distressed and suddenly feeling so, so small.

“Okay.”

“'Okay?'” Minhyuk repeats. “You’re not going to fight me?”

“No. I don’t want to.”

Silence fills the car.

“Where are you going? This is the wrong street.”

“I’m going to that new ice cream shop you wanted to go to.” Jooheon focuses on the road despite feeling Minhyuk’s eyes on him. There’s another long silence. Minhyuk pulls up the sleeve of his jean jacket and checks his watch.

A sigh.

“Jooheon, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this wasn't confusing;;


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **DESCRIPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK IN THE BEGINNING!! PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION**
> 
> Originally, I wrote with the intention to make it appear as though the reaction is just one of shock and speechlessness where you don't know what to say, but as I read over the scene, I realized it could be understood as a panic attack. I'll leave this warning here regardless because I would much rather be safe than sorry.
> 
> Please don't read if topics like these trigger you. Take care of yourselves first! ♡

_Kihyun answers the door with wet hair and a soaked towel wrapped around his shoulders._

_“Jooheon?”_

_“S-Sorry, is Minhyuk here?”_

_“No, he left for his hospital appointment.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“Is that Jooheon?” Hyungwon’s voice comes loud and clear from the kitchen. He appears beside Kihyun with a welcoming smile, a smear of flour on his eyebrow. “Why don’t you come in? I hate being stuck with this guy.”_

_Kihyun glares at the taller man and turns back to Jooheon with an angelic smile. He holds the door open wider as an invitation._

_Jooheon enters hesitantly, uneasy gaze falling to the floor at the banter going back and forth between the two soulmates in the room. They’re not strangers, but somehow, conversation came easier when Minhyuk was there. But now there’s no obnoxiously loud comment coming from him to ease the awkwardness._

_"I hope I didn't interrupt anything."_

_“Oh, no, we were just about to bake something together, but it's for the best that I do it alone sometime later. Sit, sit,” Kihyun says, guiding Jooheon to the loveseat in the center of the living room. “Cut up some fruits for him,” he barks at Hyungwon who rolls his eyes but drags himself back into the kitchen in compliance._

_“How are we soulmates?” Hyungwon mutters as he opens a cupboard and pulls out a cutting board. But Jooheon catches the smallest upward tilt of the older’s lips._

_“So, Jooheon,” Kihyun says, quick to grab his attention again. “Why don’t you come by more often?”_

_“I’d like to,” Jooheon admits, “I just don’t want to intrude all the time.”_

_“What are you talking about? Having you here would make things so much better. For one, Minhyuk wouldn’t feel so lonely all the time.” Creases form in between Kihyun’s eyebrows. He subconsciously runs a hand down his arm. “I don’t think he enjoys being around a soulmate couple all the time.”_

_Jooheon doesn’t know how to respond to that. He trails his fingers across the ridges of his leather pants, clearing his throat a couple times. “Hyung,” he starts cautiously, “What’s it like having a soulmate?”_

_Something gnaws at Jooheon’s gut when Kihyun smiles softly, eyes flickering to a busy Hyungwon making a mess of jagged apple peels on the kitchen counter amid the open packs of flour and sugar. “Hell,” the man in the kitchen calls out in response to Jooheon’s question. Jooheon laughs, because he knows they all know Hyungwon’s the affectionate one behind closed doors._

_“How did you two find out you were soulmates?” Jooheon asks because he’s genuinely curious._

_Kihyun blushes._

_“It was a stupid bet,” Hyungwon says from the kitchen again._

_“Long story short,” Kihyun takes over, “I lost a bet and kissed Hyungwon on the cheek. Who knew that would work?”_

_“Ironically, it was Minhyuk who made the bet,” Hyungwon chuckles. “It’s like he knew something we didn’t.”_

_“But,” Jooheon fumbles with his phone, feeling his cheeks go warm, “How did it feel?”_

_“You mean the kiss?” Kihyun teases. Jooheon’s lack of response and reddening cheeks are enough confirmation._

_Hyungwon approaches them with a plate of uneven apple slices. Kihyun shakes his head but takes one from the platter anyway. “As much as I hate to admit it, even if it was just a peck on the cheek, it felt really good.”_

_Surprisingly, Kihyun doesn’t taunt him and keeps relatively quiet. “Not like sparks, or fireworks, but like… like a quiet warmth. Inside,” he says. “Like a sudden weight is lifted, a weight you didn’t even know was there.”_

_Jooheon listens carefully, teeth scraping away at the walls of his cheeks._

_“You haven’t found your soulmate yet, right?” Kihyun asks softly. His eyes are hazy, like he’s staring into the distance or nothing at all._

_Hyungwon freezes mid-bite. “You haven’t?” There’s an edge to his voice, a sudden rigid tone that Jooheon doesn’t recognize. The younger squeezes against the arm of the loveseat he shares with the taller man, feeling like he’s somehow committed a crime._

_“Won,” Kihyun says, an inconspicuous warning. He looks back at Jooheon with a tight-lipped smile. “He thought you were like Minhyuk.”_ Without soulmate _, are the unspoken words._

_“Does Minhyuk know?” Hyungwon asks._

_“Yes.” It’s barely even a whisper._

_“Hm.”_

—•—

“Ice skating? In the _summer?_ There’s no open rink for that.” Minhyuk pops his gum and grimaces at the way it sticks to his nose. He takes the napkin Jooheon offers and pastes his gum right in the middle with a proud smile.

“Yes, there are. You just have to look for them.”

“You must have done a shit ton of research.”

“I did. Are you proud?” Jooheon smiles, that smile Minhyuk loves, the one with the dimples poking deep into smooth skin on either side, the same one where the eyes curve into little moons like they were carved on his face. Minhyuk loves it.

“I’m so proud,” he coos, ruffling Jooheon’s orange locks. “Hey, when are you going to dye your hair again? You said you’ve been meaning to.”

“I still like this color,” Jooheon says, sifting a hand through his hair. “Are you keeping yours blond?”

“I don’t know. Should I change it?”

“I’d like it no matter what.”

Minhyuk grins, “Correction: you’d like _me_ no matter what.”

“Hyung,” Jooheon says, almost scandalously, “How’d you know?”

“Joo, I know everything.”

“You didn’t know there are open rinks for ice skating in the summer.”

“Who goes ice skating in the summer?”

Jooheon groans, falling backward onto the bed to glare at the ceiling.

“What about a haunted house?” Minhyuk suggests, climbing forward and draping himself over Jooheon’s torso. The gentle rise and fall of the younger’s breaths are calming. Minhyuk closes his eyes and tries to match his breathing pattern with Jooheon’s.

“Hell no,” Jooheon wheezes, attempting to lift Minhyuk off of him.

“Amusement park?”

“Only if you don’t force me on those scary rollercoasters.”

Minhyuk mumbles something incoherent. Jooheon sits up and pushes him off with a grunt. The older stills and slowly curls into fetal position, hands clutched tightly to his chest.

“Or even on those windmill kind of rides. Those make me nauseous,” Jooheon continues. “I don’t like rides in general.”

An unsettling kind of silence passes.

“Minhyuk?”

A sort of strangled noise comes from the body beside him, and Jooheon’s heart drops. Jooheon, at that moment, knows something is terribly wrong. With a stuttering heart, he immediately kneels beside the older, finding him gasping in short, ragged breaths, eyes shut tightly enough to squeeze out a few tears at the corners.

“Minhyuk, oh, shit, oh God, hyung, fuck, _fuck_ —!”

Jooheon gathers Minhyuk into his arms, pulling them both against the headboard of his bed. Of all the times Jooheon has felt useless, this time tops the cake. He knows Minhyuk’s sick, he knows Minhyuk has been through this probably a million and one times, but this is the first time he’s experiencing it with him. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, doesn’t know what’s happening. His hands are shaking and his nose is running and he’s a mess of tears, yelling for Hyunwoo—even though Hyunwoo’s not home right now—because someone else would know better. Anyone else would know better.

“ _Hyung,_ ” Jooheon sobs, until finally, finally, Minhyuk opens his eyes, and stops struggling. He pulls out of Jooheon’s hold and presses a hand against his own chest, presses _hard_ , and winces at the dull throb that answers back. A few moments of heavy breathing later, he turns around, takes in Jooheon’s horrified expression and teary eyes, and launches himself at the younger to assure him that he’s okay, _I’m okay, don’t worry, you’re fine_. Jooheon welcomes the hug, too scared to say anything, just breathing unevenly into Minhyuk’s shoulder while his heart beats crazily at the bottom of his stomach.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Minhyuk says, and Jooheon lets the dam break. He sobs into Minhyuk, a mumbling mess of tears and apologies, but Minhyuk won’t accept a single one. He’s the one who’s sorry. He didn’t mean for Jooheon to see him weak like that. He’s supposed to smile and be happy for Jooheon, so that Jooheon can follow and smile back and be happy back.

“Let’s… Let’s go get ready. For ice skating,” Minhyuk whispers into Jooheon’s ear, but the younger shakes his head, curling tighter into Minhyuk’s slim frame.

“I want to stay here.”

“At home? But you did so much to get reservations for the rink.”

“I don’t care,” Jooheon mumbles. “Stay here. With you.”

Minhyuk doesn’t have the heart to deny him.

—•—

Hyunwoo finds Minhyuk wrapped around a sleeping Jooheon by the time he comes back home. If he notices the mess of tissues and pillows, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he exits Jooheon’s bedroom and hears Minhyuk follow him into the living room.

“You must be tired,” Hyunwoo says.

Minhyuk shakes his head with a smile on his face. Hyunwoo wonders how Minhyuk has the ability to smile through all of his suffering. “Being with Jooheon makes me happy.”

“I can tell,” Hyunwoo says gently. “You make him happy, too.”

“Really?” Minhyuk tilts his head to the side.

Hyunwoo nods. “Definitely. Thank you for that.”

Minhyuk laughs, loud and forcefully. Hyunwoo notices the bloodshot eyes, the purple bags that decorate them.

“I better go back home. Kihyun and Hyungwon will be worried.”

“I could drive you. Riding a cab this late at night could be dangerous,” Hyunwoo says, pulling his car keys out of his coat pocket.

“It’s okay. Jooheon could wake up at any time, and I wouldn’t want him to wake up alone. Thanks, though.” Hyunwoo nods once in reply and watches as Minhyuk leaves through the front door. There are a thousand thoughts and a thousand priorities he has in mind, but only one presides. The sound of his heavy footsteps echo throughout the house, and when he enters Jooheon’s room to clean the tissues scattered across the bed, he notices a fresh tear track on the younger’s face. And just before he leaves, Hyunwoo hears the faintest murmurs of _thank you_.

—•—

“Jooheon?”

A hum in reply.

“I haven’t heard you rap recently.” Minhyuk gently holds Jooheon’s head in his lap. The younger’s eyes open at the spoken words. “I want to hear you rap again. And play the drums like you did that night.”

“I hit you with the drumstick that night,” Jooheon mumbles.

“As you always remind me,” Minhyuk laughs softly, “So much time has passed since then.”

“I guess,” Jooheon says, leaning into the hand resting against his cheek. Minhyuk’s hands are cold, like usual. “Right now, I just want to lie with you.”

“You’re making my lap numb.”

“Take it like a champ.”

Minhyuk scowls, “How come you always get to be held? I want to be held.”

Jooheon abruptly sits up and shoves Minhyuk down onto his lap. The older coughs and glares in what’s meant to be a menacing way, but Jooheon bristles at the sound of the cough and pulls Minhyuk up to check his face and every other inch of skin he can reach. When he notices nothing out of the ordinary, he releases a breath of relief.

“What?” Minhyuk says. “I’m okay. I’m not fragile.”

“Never said you were.”

Minhyuk scoffs. “Anyway, I was wondering if we could go to Hongdae today. With all your equipment.”

“We can’t carry all that ourselves.”

Minhyuk nods, “We could ask Changkyun and Hoseok to help like we always do anyway.”

“But I want to spend time with you.”

“You _would_ be spending time with me. Just at Hongdae.”

“No,” Jooheon shakes his head weakly. He’s already tired of arguing. “Alone. Private time. You and me. Alone.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widen. “But we haven’t even kissed!”

Jooheon hides his face against Minhyuk’s stomach, mortified. “How can you be so blunt?” He lifts his head again and says, “I meant I just want to cuddle in bed today.”

Minhyuk takes Jooheon’s face in his hands and stares at him fondly. “Jooheon, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are,” the younger whispers, eyes clouded with tears. “You are. Don’t start lying to me now.”

“I mean, yes,” Minhyuk rolls his eyes, “I’m not going to be here forever,” Jooheon whimpers, and Minhyuk grasps onto his face tighter, “But I’m always going to be here.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does make sense. You’ll know. You’ll understand.” Minhyuk gives Jooheon a gentle pat on the cheek and climbs off the bed. “Come on. Let’s get ready for Hongdae.”

—•—

Changkyun and Hoseok do help. Jooheon readjusts the microphone and watches as Hoseok sets down the speaker, the last one out of the van.

“Thanks for always helping me out with this,” he says, both grateful and apologetic.

Hoseok nods. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and kneels down beside Jooheon at the drum set. His voice is low when he speaks, “Are you okay?”

Jooheon cocks an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?” The answer is obvious but he’s avoiding the question.

“It’s just… It’s been a while since you went busking.”

“Minhyuk wanted to see me busking again. And I,” Jooheon takes a deep breath, “I miss it. It reminds me of old times.”

“Okay. Well, we’ll be here to watch and help pack up after,” Hoseok offers a half-hearted smile and returns to Changkyun’s side to press a lingering kiss onto the younger’s temple. Jooheon tries not to stare, but the ache in his heart grows a little bit bigger.

“You going to start?” Minhyuk’s voice comes out of nowhere, and Jooheon holds back the shriek that threatens to escape.

“Um, I guess.”

The drumsticks mold into his hands like they’re meant to be there and Jooheon inhales, once, twice, exhales, once, twice, like he usually does, but this time, every breath in and out causes his chest to constrict. There’s a hand reaching in and forcing his heart into a chokehold, squeezing, squeezing.

But then there’s another hand, a soothing hand, against his back, long, lithe fingers smoothing over the crinkles of his T-shirt like a reminder that _I’m always going to be here_. Jooheon stills, eyes closing and remembering foggy breaths and cream sweaters, messy blond hair tousled by the wind and cold drinks shared over steaming dumplings.

Jooheon doesn’t care if a crowd forms or if it doesn’t. When he flicks his wrist to strike the first beat, his body follows naturally along. Familiar, this is so familiar. Welcoming. Slowly, the hand in his chest loosens its hold and Jooheon feels like he can breathe again.

 _I’m always going to be here_.

He leans toward the microphone, and lets the rhythm speak.

—•—

“Baby, why are you crying?” Minhyuk whispers into his hair, holding him close. Jooheon shuts his eyes and buries his face into the older’s shirt. “You did good. You did so well.”

The tiles feel cold and slippery under his legs, wet with his own tears. He feels Minhyuk hold him tight and caress his hair, cheek, neck, arms, anywhere the older can reach in the crooked position he’s in. Jooheon leans into the touch, hiccups bubbling up his throat as he breathes in the scent of vanilla.

“Thought of you,” he mumbles against Minhyuk’s neck, voice feeble and hoarse.

“While you performed?”

“Mhm.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Minhyuk teases, voice light and airy but weighed down by the growing ache in his chest.

“I don’t want you to be just a memory,” Jooheon says with a plaintive cry, touching Minhyuk’s arms, chest, shoulders. With his eyes closed, he tries to memorize the feel of the older’s soft and smooth skin beneath his.

Minhyuk’s stomach twists.

“Let’s talk after you shower, okay?” He says.

“Will you shower with me?”

It’s an innocent request, pure and raw, voice laced, not with sinful desire, but trust, like he knows Minhyuk will take care of him.

“If you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

Minhyuk nods and helps Jooheon discard his sweaty, tear-stained clothing, quiet and careful, hands tentative and eyes fond. He removes his own shirt, staring at the discarded pools of jeans on the floor, and pulls Jooheon into the shower stall with him. The door clangs shut and Minhyuk, still quiet, begins to lather shampoo into Jooheon’s hair. Jooheon leans back, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as the older gently rubs at his scalp, movements so delicate and careful that Jooheon feels like porcelain.

When the last of the water disappears down the drain, Minhyuk wraps a towel around his own waist and swaddles Jooheon with a second towel before ushering the both of them back to his bedroom. It’s only the fourth time Jooheon’s been here, but it feels like home. He scans the room, eyes lingering on the polaroids scattered over the dresser as Minhyuk tosses him a familiar pair of clothes. It’s his, he realizes. He doesn’t remember when he left them here.

Minhyuk quickly joins Jooheon in the bed when he finishes dressing, legs tucked beneath him as they face each other, and the younger revels in that smell of fresh laundry he loves so much. He leans closer, hand traveling to tufts of blond that are stained darker by the water dripping onto their shared pillow below. He likes touching Minhyuk, likes when the older closes his eyes and smiles into every graze of his fingers.

“You always take care of me,” Jooheon whispers, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You don’t need to be deserving to have me.” A strangled cough. “You’d have me regardless.”

The shaky hand in his hair comes to a stop and Minhyuk opens his eyes. Jooheon’s staring back at him, hopeful and resolute.

“Minhyuk?” His voice is breathy, hand sliding onto the older’s thigh.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Minhyuk has expected this, has known Jooheon would ask one day, has tried to avoid conversation regarding this very question. Because he knows he’ll fall under temptation. He’s wanted this, has wanted Jooheon so badly, has dreamt of kisses that left him breathless in the middle of the night, has caught himself wanting too much. He knows he shouldn’t. Minhyuk’s not stupid, he knows what thoughts plague Jooheon’s mind even as he asks the question. Yet, he still surrenders with just a single nod.

Jooheon leans in first, hands cupping Minhyuk’s face tenderly like even the slightest touch will break him. The first kiss is simple, subtle. Jooheon pecks the corner of Minhyuk’s lips, a prelude to the heart of their desires. It’s the second kiss that Minhyuk initiates. He angles his head slightly, and at his easy compliance, moistens the seam of Jooheon’s lips until the younger finally peels them apart, letting their fingers curl tightly together. It’s messy, desperate, a mix of shallow breaths that speak their longing, seeking more, _more_ , because they’ve already been deprived enough.

And it’s the third kiss that seals the deal, soft again this time, faint and ticklish but painful all the same when Minhyuk catches the first tear that drips. There’s another, and another, until Jooheon pulls away, the hope in his eyes killed the instant he comes to terms with the fact that there was no _quiet warmth_ or _sudden weight that is lifted._ He knew, he expected it, but the reality is that reality never changes, despite how much, how hard he fantasizes.

Jooheon cries, and Minhyuk can only stare at him sadly, clutching at the growing pain in his chest, _now’s not the time. Right now, Jooheon’s pain matters more._

“Can we—“ sniffle, “do that again?” Jooheon asks almost pleadingly.

“We should go to bed,” Minhyuk says.

Jooheon shakes his head, “Everyone is different. Maybe, maybe if we love each other enough, we can be soulmates.”

He doesn’t continue when Minhyuk pulls him into his chest, tucks him under his chin, and hugs him tightly. He doesn’t speak when Minhyuk trembles. Doesn’t speak when he hears shaky breaths pour into the room. Doesn’t speak when he knows some of the tears that drip down his face aren’t his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry :(


	4. Chapter 4

_Through the double layers of gloves, Minhyuk can feel the warmth of Jooheon’s shivering hands._

_“Do you want my scarf?” He asks, pausing in his steps and grabbing at the soft bunches of plaid. Jooheon turns back to look at him._

_“No, I think you need it more than I do.”_

_Minhyuk laughs, “Are you sure? You’re shivering.”_

_“I’m sure.”_

_“Okay. If you say so.”_

_It’s only a few seconds later when Jooheon feels something warm wrap around his neck, and before he could protest, Minhyuk runs past him with his arms outstretched._

_“Hurry up, Joo, before I win the race!”_

_Jooheon tugs the scarf tighter around his neck with a smile, “What race?”_

_“The race to that leaf over there,” Minhyuk points at the vague direction in the distance. “First one there gets a wish!”_

_“Where?”_

_But Minhyuk has already taken off. Jooheon can’t help but think it’s silly and childish—doesn’t even know where he’s heading—but the feel of the wind against his face as_ Minhyuk’s _scarf flaps behind him is a new kind of excitement. A new kind of freedom._

_He’s too caught up in his thoughts to notice Minhyuk halting in his tracks up ahead, shoes almost skidding against the dusty road. The older stumbles forward when Jooheon crashes into him with a shout._

_“Why’d you stop?” Jooheon says, regaining his balance and briefly checking over the other for any injuries._

_Minhyuk ignores him and breathes heavily, hand outstretched and head tilted back to face the sky. “Do you feel that?”_

_“Huh?”_

_Jooheon imitates Minhyuk’s position and stares blankly up at the clouded sky. “What are you looking at?”_

_“Here.”_

_Minhyuk pulls Jooheon’s head down with a harsh tug of his scarf. He presents his gloved palm to the younger with wide eyes, “Snow.”_

_Jooheon squints. At the center of Minhyuk’s palm is a fleck of white. It’s small, and already half-melted, there and then gone in the span of a second._

_“Joo,” Minhyuk begins, attempting to catch the steadily falling snowflakes. “Do you know the meaning of first snow?”_

_The realization settles as quickly as the snow on his own palms begins to melt. Jooheon nods, “Of course.”_

_“Then do you know the meaning of first rain?”_

_“First_ rain _?”_

_“Yeah. First rain,” Minhyuk smiles. His fingers curl around the gathered snowflakes in his palm, watching as water seeps through the cracks and drips down his glove onto the empty road._

_“First snow means that if a couple experiences the first snowfall of the year together, they will last a long, long time.” A melancholic look simmers in Minhyuk’s eyes before it dissolves as fast as it came. “But first rain… First rain means the angels are crying and blessing you with their tears of prosperity in hopes for new beginnings.”_

_“What kinds of new beginnings?”_

_“I don’t know. I just made it up,” Minhyuk laughs, the small crinkles around his eyes endearing._

_“Well, make that up, too, then. What kinds of new beginnings?”_

_“If you’re so curious, just wait for the first rain. Maybe then you’ll know.” Cough. “By the way,” Minhyuk beams, lifting the soles of his sneakers to reveal the flattened silhouette of a torn maple leaf, “you owe me a wish.”_

—•—

“Will you tell me if you feel any pain?”

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

A low exhale, a cough. Jooheon cringes at the rough, throaty sound. It’s a sound he should be used to by now, but isn’t. No matter how often, it doesn’t make it any easier for Jooheon to hear it and sit still with only words of comfort to offer. And even now, during a time like this, Minhyuk looks up at him with a smile stretched across his face, eyes doing that uneven blinking he finds so endearing. The simmering feeling in Jooheon’s gut intensifies until suddenly, he’s facing away and forcing as much air into his lungs as possible to keep the nausea at bay.

“Jooheon?”

He turns around at the sound of his name and is met with Minhyuk’s troubled eyes and concerned pout.

“You okay?”

It’s those very words that spur Jooheon toward the edge, his mind a cluttered mess as his tongue spits words with no regard for potential consequences.

“Why are _you_ okay?”

Minhyuk sits up on the bed, covers pooling at his waist as he stares wide-eyed at Jooheon.

“ _How_ are you okay? How do you sit there and smile at me and ask me if I’m okay when you’re the one literally dying in God knows how many days? Is it even days? What if you’ve got hours, minutes, or one second you’re here reassuring me that everything’s fine, and the next you’re gone, poof, just like that?” He’s breathing heavily now, the gulp of air in his lungs quickly sweeping back out into the room.

“Because, hyung—“ Jooheon gasps, “Hyung, I can’t, I can’t.” He drops to his feet, curling into himself with both hands gripping his hair. “I, honest to God, can’t live without you, and if you know that, then why are you leaving me?”

The last few words leave in one quick breath, almost inaudible, but Minhyuk catches every word, lips trembling and eyes itching and, _fuck_ , he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if there’s anything he _could_ say to alleviate Jooheon’s pain.

Instead, Minhyuk turns away from Jooheon, his back facing the door as he buries himself deeper underneath the covers. He doesn’t know what to do. Jooheon’s angry, so angry—maybe not at _him_ , but angry regardless—and he can hear the younger begin to stand to leave. Minhyuk’s heart withers a little bit more with every silent second. Do something, he’s got to do something before Jooheon leaves, and just as the younger turns around, Minhyuk’s hand flies out and grabs his forearm to tug him back. He’s sitting completely upright now, using all the strength he can muster to keep Jooheon from moving. Jooheon stares, takes in Minhyuk’s tired appearance, and relents, sitting on the edge of the bed to trace the dark circles tainting the older’s pale complexion.

“Go on, yell at me more,” Minhyuk says weakly, voice weary and pleading. “Be real angry with me. I can take it, so do it.”

“What—“

Minhyuk falls forward to bury his head in his hands. His hair is messy, the roots overgrown. “I’m a burden.”

Jooheon’s jaw drops, all frustration escaping his hazy mind, “Where is this coming from?”

“I just am.”

“How?” Jooheon moves to wrap his arms around Minhyuk’s back, clinging firmly onto the older but careful not to crush him.

“You’re trapped because of me. You’re not out there searching for your soulmate like you should be when you’re young. You’re not going to Hongdae to busk anymore like you used to. You’re changing your life, throwing things away, _sacrificing_ them, all because of me.”

“But those are my decisions. You mean more than all of the things you mentioned combined. I don’t care about anything else.”

“That’s the problem,” Minhyuk cries, pulling his knees up against his chest. “You have to care about yourself. Discover new passions. _Do_ things. Because what are you going to do when I’m no longer here?”

Jooheon feels a burning in his chest.

“And,” Minhyuk gasps with a stuttered breath, unclasping the watch encircling his wrist and throwing it against the wall where it shatters immediately upon collision. Jooheon flinches. “I’m sick and _tired_ of being reminded that I don’t have much time left, that every second I spend doing nothing is a second that is wasted.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widen, landing on Jooheon with newfound determination. “So let’s leave.”

“Kihyun and Hyungwon will be back soon with lunch. Besides, it’s too cold out. If anything, you should ask in the spring.”

“But the last time it was winter, we got to experience first snow.”

Upon Jooheon’s persistent silence, Minhyuk sighs, “Please. Jooheon, let’s go do things. Eat the food we’ve never tried before, go to clubs and make the most out of our youth before it’s gone, do anything, anywhere.”

“You have your hospital appointment later today,” Jooheon says quietly, smoothing his thumb over the older’s knuckles. He eyes the shattered remains of the watch on the floor, mentally cringing at the face he knows Kihyun will make upon the discovery that there’s now a new dent in the wall and bits and pieces of glass in the carpet.

“Who cares? It’s not like going to them adds years to my life. All they do is ask me stupid questions.” Jooheon knows he has a point. And besides, he doesn’t have the heart to say no when Minhyuk looks at him like he carries the sky on his shoulders.

“Be with me,” Minhyuk whispers, leaning forward and pressing chapped lips against Jooheon’s left dimple. “Hm?”

“Hyung.”

“While I still have the chance?”

Jooheon shudders, pulling his fingers from Minhyuk’s loose grip. He raises his gaze to the ceiling, hating the feeling of wetness gathering at the corners of his eyes. Before he can heave himself off the bed, warmth returns to his hands, pulling at his fingers until it’s wedged into every crevice, tugging up, up, until cracked and bleeding lips melt against his open palms.

“Don’t have to go far.” Minhyuk rubs his eyes, leaving them looking more bloodshot than before. “Just somewhere we can be alone.”

Jooheon chews on the inside of his cheek, “Aren’t we alone?”

“Not alone enough,” Minhyuk responds mid-yawn. His arm stretches over his head and then comes back down to wrap around Jooheon’s shoulders. Just as he opens his mouth to utter another word, the sound of the front door slamming shut interrupts him. Kihyun’s shouting and Hyungwon’s belated laughter echoes through the hallways and Minhyuk sighs a second time, resting his head in between the crook of Jooheon’s neck and shoulder.

“Guess lunch is here.”

Jooheon nods, swallowing around the spew of apologies wedged in his throat.

—•—

It’s around dinnertime when the doorbell rings. Kihyun rises from his spot on the couch, remote control in hand, and heads for the front door. When the older is out of view, Jooheon glances at Hyungwon who leaves the room and comes back with a blanket hung over his arm, gesturing to a sleeping Minhyuk. Minhyuk is curled around Jooheon’s form, head resting in an awkward angle, and Jooheon shifts slightly to readjust the older’s position, pulling him closer. Jooheon likes when Minhyuk is close. Likes when they’re touching so that he can feel the steady rising and falling of Minhyuk’s chest… just in case.

Hyungwon is quiet, draping the blanket carefully over Minhyuk and pausing to stretch it over as much of Jooheon as he can reach. Jooheon freezes, watching him warily before glancing at the hallway leading to the front door that Kihyun disappeared into. He hopes the older would return quickly to erase the sudden awkwardness.

“Jooheon,” Hyungwon starts. He picks at his sweatpants and sits at the arm of the couch closest to the younger.

“Yeah?”

“I hope you’re not afraid to be around me.”

Jooheon’s head snaps up from Minhyuk’s soft features to Hyungwon’s guilty ones.

“What?”

“I know I haven’t been the nicest to you—“

“No, no, you’re fine,” Jooheon is quick to say. He gulps, hand sliding into the dip of Minhyuk’s waist as a source of comfort. “I just… I-I guess I want to know what changed since your first impression of me.”

Hyungwon’s lips straighten into a tight line. “I really like you, Jooheon. You’re a nice guy. But I think I got a little overprotective. You know,” he gestures to Minhyuk, “Once I heard you haven’t found your soulmate yet.”

“Ah.” Jooheon’s breath catches in his throat.

“I thought maybe you were born without a soulmate, too. After all, Minhyuk would never deliberately pursue someone with a soulmate. He doesn’t like the thought of that.” Hyungwon furrows his eyebrows. “When I found out you still have one—somewhere out there—I admit, I was a little bit upset.”

Jooheon frowns. “But why?”

“I just didn’t want to see you abandon Minhyuk. I didn’t want Minhyuk to hurt because of you.”

Jooheon’s frown deepens, “I would never do that.”

“People say that all the time,” Hyungwon smiles wryly. “But they still leave when the time comes. I guess I misjudged you, though, huh? For that, I’m sorry.”

Minhyuk stirs in his sleep and at that moment, Kihyun returns to the living room with flitting eyes and lips pulled into a taut line. Behind him is a familiar broad physique and Jooheon stands up from the couch to greet the visitor in confusion.

“Hyunwoo?”

“You asked him to come?” Kihyun gestures to Jooheon’s roommate with a flick of the thumb. Jooheon squints his eyes to notice that the older’s fingers are trembling. Under his scrutinizing stare, Kihyun quickly approaches Hyungwon’s side, tearing at his lip while refusing to make eye contact.

“Yeah, he’s my roommate. I asked him to pick me up,” Jooheon says slowly, lifting Minhyuk’s head gently onto a cushion. He stands and turns to Kihyun while motioning to Hyunwoo, “You know him?”

“No,” Hyunwoo says suddenly. His voice is firm with that usual gentle tone. “Why don’t we leave, Jooheon? It’s raining out and you can visit again tomorrow.”

Jooheon nods, mumbling a goodbye and pressing a quick kiss against Minhyuk’s forehead before following Hyunwoo out the door. When they enter the car, soaked and shivering, there’s an unexpected moment of silence. Hyunwoo’s hands are clutched around the steering wheel, knuckles white and veins protruding. It takes a second for Jooheon to piece two and two together.

“You know Kihyun, don’t you?”

Hyunwoo breathes harshly, head lowering onto the steering wheel and soaking it wet with his hair.

“Sorry,” he says, one hand leaving the wheel to clutch at his dark, wet locks.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, Jooheon.” Hyunwoo abruptly lifts his head and starts the engine to run the car into the street. Jooheon stares at him, hands drawing the seatbelt into the buckle.

“Want to talk?”

“ _No_. No,” Hyunwoo shakes his head. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No.”

“Okay, good. That’s good. Let’s get take-out on the way.”

“Hyung, you’re scaring me.”

Hyunwoo lets out a deep breath, hands loosening their tight grip. “I’m sorry. Can I—Can I park somewhere to get ahold of myself real quick?”

“Yeah.”

The car takes a detour and pulls into the nearest parking lot of a children’s park. Hyunwoo cuts the engine and sits still, aware of Jooheon’s intense gaze on him.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Jooheon asks, flicking at the strands of hair clinging to his forehead. He’s hesitant, wary.

Hyunwoo turns to look at Jooheon. His eyes are dark and melancholic. There’s a profound sadness in them that hurts Jooheon to look at.

“Kihyun and I knew each other years ago,” he finally says. “We actually met before you and I did, during my sophomore year of college.”

He pauses, lips twitching and eyes finding the floor of the car. The dim light of the streetlamp in front of them barely illuminates the space.

“We were both kind of naive. Fell in love with being in love. I think we found each other at the wrong time.”

Jooheon takes in the words and contemplates the situation. With a sudden realization, he gasps, “You and Kihyun—?” His eyes are the size of planets with lips rounded into an “O.”

Hyunwoo chuckles. His lack of protest is enough of an answer. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t care about him anymore. I still do. He’s affected my life in ways that can’t be reversed.”

Jooheon nods. He knows that feeling all too well. Minhyuk was a comet that shot into his life so unexpectedly and had taken refuge in his heart. Now Jooheon doesn’t know a world without him. He looks up and catches Hyunwoo staring wistfully at the hood of the car, fingers loosely hanging onto the steering wheel. There’s a bigger story to Kihyun and Hyunwoo, and that’s why it’s no longer _Kihyun and Hyunwoo_ but _Kihyun and Hyungwon_ instead. Not that Hyungwon had any malicious intent, but neither did Hyunwoo, whose only sin was falling victim to his feelings. So who really was to blame?

“What happened?” Jooheon eventually prods, curious.

Hyunwoo smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Kihyun thought it would be best to part ways.”

“Why? You were in love.” Jooheon knows why. Asks nonetheless. Hyunwoo’s past is starting to scare him because it was beginning to sound familiar, and he needs some kind of reassurance.

Hyunwoo laughs at Jooheon’s question. This time it’s genuine. “He thought it was better to do it sooner rather than later. Because we’d both find our soulmates eventually.”

“He wanted to save himself for his soulmate,” Jooheon says, like it suddenly makes sense. It does make sense. In the overarching sense of things. But not to him. Jooheon thinks things like fate are hoaxes. Mind games meant to fool you into a false sense of security. But _feelings_. Real feelings are simple. If you love someone, you love someone, and that’s that. Jooheon gulps and feels like there’s something jumping around inside his ribcage, frantic for some sort of escape. It’s a small realization because a part of him already knew. Jooheon loves Lee Minhyuk. Just loves him, plain and simple, and that’s that.

“Not necessarily. He just knew it would be harder to hold on to what we had with our soulmates in the picture. He was saving us both from the pain.”

“You were in pain regardless.” Jooheon’s heart dies a little in his chest, no longer so eager and hungry for freedom.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s happy now.”

“With Hyungwon,” Jooheon murmurs. “What does that make you?”

Hyunwoo shakes his head, “I’m happy, too.” He fidgets with his keys, a small smile etched onto his face. This time, it’s genuine. “You can be happy without a soulmate, Jooheon. It’s possible.”

—•—

It’s the end of June when Jooheon gets a one-day taste of what it might be like to live without a soulmate. Hyungwon’s unusual frantic behavior, sharp breaths through the receiver like the older’s struggling to speak, a crack in his voice as he tries to articulate his thoughts; _Jooheon, sorry, sorry to call you like this—he, fuck—Jooheon, I’m, please,_ please _, come down here, Minhyuk needs you—_ That’s all that Jooheon needs to hear.

He breezes past Hyunwoo, grabbing his car keys on the way, and drives like his life depends on it. Because it does. Or maybe, Minhyuk’s does. Either way, Jooheon doesn’t want to waste what little time he has left with him.

The call is still going, the speaker on as he hears Kihyun’s distant shouting and a series of coughs that make him press a little harder on the gas pedal, and Hyungwon finally tells him they’ve just arrived at the hospital. Jooheon cuts into the lane on his right, ignoring the honk of an angry driver and he’s sorry but he doesn’t have time to lower the window and stick out a hand in apology. The hospital is five more minutes away, five minutes too long. For a second, Jooheon contemplates on yelling into the phone that the hospital is not a good place, _Minhyuk doesn’t like hospitals_ , but he’s got no time for that either.

When the hospital comes into view, Jooheon curses at the sight of a full parking lot and parks haphazardly at a red zone. He doesn’t care, he’ll have to deal with it later.

Kihyun greets him nervously in the waiting room. Hyungwon is sitting beside him, posture stiff and eyes glaring holes into the floor.

“Hyung, tell me, please,” Jooheon starts. Kihyun stands up and urges Jooheon to take his place on the hard, plastic chair. “Is he okay? What happened?”

Kihyun takes Jooheon’s hands in his, pats them, rubs them, looks around and ruffles Hyungwon’s hair. A few times, he opens his mouth only to close it again without a word.

“I don’t know, Jooheon,” Kihyun says after a while. “He complained about chest pain this morning, and then, and then it happened so quick. I should have known.”

Hyungwon looks up instantly, “It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe if I took his words more seriously—“

“We can’t predict things like this, Ki,” Hyungwon cuts him off. He grabs Kihyun’s wrist and brings it to his lips. Jooheon pulls his hands away from Kihyun’s to allow the older to affectionately caress his soulmate’s face.

“Did,” Jooheon speaks tentatively, “Minhyuk ask for me?”

“What’s new?” Kihyun attempts a smile but it fades too quickly.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Jooheon knows it’s not right to pin this question onto Kihyun; it’s another burden the older doesn’t need, but he needs to hear some sort of an answer, whether it’s reassuring or not.

Kihyun just presses a gentle kiss onto the top of his head.

Jooheon nods at the unspoken answer and closes his eyes as he rests his head against the wall. He wishes the answer was different, more confident, more reassuring, but in these circumstances, he knows it’s the best possible one Kihyun could give.

He keeps his eyes closed until news comes that Minhyuk is stable and ready for visitors. The walk down the hallway is suffocating and nauseating all at once and Jooheon grabs onto Hyungwon’s shoulder instinctively. The door to Minhyuk’s hospital room looms closer and when he’s finally at the threshold, he finds himself hesitating by the door. Kihyun and Hyungwon wait for him, like they’re giving him space to sort through his thoughts. To compose himself.

After a deep breath, Jooheon steps inside, eyes glued to the floor and fingers itching at his jeans. He shuffles farther into the room and Hyungwon approaches him, hand wrapping around Jooheon’s fidgeting fingers.

Kihyun speaks first.

“You look like literal shit.”

Hyungwon stifles a laugh against his free hand as Minhyuk scoffs, sitting upright against his hospital bed.

“I feel like literal shit. I’m going to throw up.”

“Well, shit,” Hyungwon says, and goes to grab the small garbage bin by the door before lifting it up to Minhyuk’s face.

“Agh, not anymore,” Minhyuk mumbles, stealing a furtive glance Jooheon’s way. Jooheon pretends he doesn’t see it.

“Do you need anything?” Kihyun asks, tucking the blanket under Minhyuk’s feet. He looks bothered, like he’s wondering if he should be more careful or just stick to being normal.

“Please, don’t pretend to care so much,” Minhyuk groans, “It’s creeping me out.” And there’s his answer.

“Well, you know, as your roommate, I am exercising my right to care.”

“Okay, as my roommate, you’d be exercising your apparent right to care by picking up some food for me. There’s a really good sandwich shop across the street, I think.” He adjusts his position, wincing as he bumps his elbow against the arm of his bed. “Hey, Won, why don’t you accompany your beloved so he doesn’t feel lonely?”

“He’ll be fine.”

At Minhyuk’s glare, Hyungwon quickly follows Kihyun out of the room. And things suddenly get quiet.

Minhyuk sighs, his smile faltering as he leans forward. He rests his head in his hands as his elbows sit on his lap. The fatigue in his eyes resurfaces but he still manages to reach out a hand and whisper, “Won’t you come give me a hug?”

Jooheon shoots at him like a rocket, arms out and open, and Minhyuk clings onto him with almost a breath of relief. Neither say a word until Minhyuk coughs into Jooheon’s shirt and Jooheon forces them apart to pat Minhyuk’s back gently, patiently.

“I was so worried,” he begins, brushing Minhyuk’s hair out of his eyes, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.” It’s his first time seeing Minhyuk again ever since his little epiphany back in Hyunwoo’s car that night. There’s a little bird back in the cage of his chest, all fluttery and excited, and Jooheon wants to let it free.

“Joo,” Minhyuk rasps, “I missed you. I missed you like hell.”

Jooheon steps back. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when it happened. I,” He runs a hand through his own hair, exasperated, “I’m worried one day I won’t be there when you—“ A deep, shuddering breath. Minhyuk watches with trembling lips.

“If you spend every second worrying about me, then the last few memories we can make together will become just that. Worrying, worrying, worrying. Over something that’s inevitable. Believe me, Joo, I get it, I would be the same if the situation was reversed, but I’m tired.” Minhyuk rubs at his eyes and sighs again, and Jooheon’s angry that the world wants to take someone so young and innocent. Soulmates were absolutely stupid. Never mind the fact that the universe never gave one to Minhyuk in the first place.

Minhyuk bites his lip and frowns at his hands, “You’re upset.”

“No,” Jooheon says, “Not at you, anyway.”

Minhyuk’s eyes find his, watery and wide and holding all the stars in Jooheon’s universe, “Baby, come here.”

Jooheon slumps back into his arms like a rag doll, limbs heavy with the weight of his heart. He rests his head against Minhyuk’s chest, maybe just to hear that steady _thump thump_ as reassurance. Minhyuk is still here, and Jooheon knows he should focus on the present rather than worry about the inevitable. But time is such a fragile variable, unpredictable and fleeting all at once. Jooheon wants to hold on when he still can.

“Sometimes,” Minhyuk murmurs against the back of Jooheon’s head, “I get really scared.” Jooheon squirms uncomfortably in his hold. “Not because I’m scared of pain and death and—I mean, I _am_ , but even those are the least of my worries. I’m scared because I won’t be able to see you again,” he takes a deep breath, holds Jooheon closer, and continues, “And I want to see you for the rest of my life, want to wake up to your croaky morning voice and trace the sleep lines on your arms until you yell at me to stop. God, I’m selfish, because I want you all to my fucking self when you have someone out there _waiting_ for you, literally _meant_ to be your other half. I’m _not_ your other half. I’m like the, I don’t fucking know, the wrong key to the right door; it’ll go in with force but the lock won’t turn because, because…” Minhyuk shudders, shoulders shaking as he attempts to hold in his tears, “I’m destined to be a loner. Even the universe couldn’t find someone patient enough to deal with me.”

“Shut up,” Jooheon says dejectedly, “The universe brought me to you.”

“Don’t say that,” Minhyuk sighs, brushing back Jooheon’s hair, “That’s not fair to your soulmate.”

Jooheon clenches his fist and jumps back, eyes glaring holes into the floor, “You never believed in fate anyway. Don’t say shit like that right now.”

“Joo,” Minhyuk starts, lowering his hands.

“No, I—“ Jooheon shakes his head, “I don’t want to speak about soulmates. Soulmates are… unfair. They’re unfair and they, I, I hate that concept. What does it do for us?” His neck and face flush in anger as he begins to pace back and forth.

Minhyuk blows his hair out of his eyes. “Well, fuck that!”

Jooheon freezes, eyes snapping back to the older as his hands pause midair in their frenzied panic. He holds his breath as Minhyuk glares at him. It’s a little bit startling to see, even if it’s not an unfamiliar sight.

“I’m fucking dying, Jooheon, but it’s not the end of the world for you because _you_ have a soulmate! At least you fucking have one, okay? And the fact that you’re still here, holding onto my every breath while you have the _choice_ to walk away and leave the hardship behind is something I will never understand.”

Minhyuk’s heavy breathing is the only indication of life in the room until his eyes grow big and his hands shoot out again as he swallows around the lump in his throat. Jooheon’s heart sinks to his toes as the words just to begin to register.

“Jooheon, no,” Minhyuk croaks, “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” His fingers stretch to catch onto Jooheon’s sleeve— _hold him back, hold him back_ —but the younger takes three backward steps and turns away. Minhyuk breathes lowly, but it feels like his vessels are thinning and there’s not enough air. The walls suddenly seem to close in on him, white and pristine, and he closes his eyes to count to three— _one, two, three, one, two three, one, two_ —

When Minhyuk reopens them, Jooheon is gone and he’s alone again.

—•—

Jooheon slams his head against his steering wheel.

_Fuck_.

Walking out on Minhyuk was a bad idea. Minhyuk hates being alone. Solitude is his greatest fear, Jooheon knows it because Minhyuk trusted him enough to tell him. God, Jooheon was horrible and now he’s too embarrassed to take a detour and stomp right back into that suffocating room.

He didn’t expect regret to crash into him so quickly. Exhaling sharply, he steps out of the car and heads into his apartment complex, making sure not to knock over the next-door neighbor’s pot like he did earlier in the day in his haste to get to the hospital. Jerking the key into the keyhole, Jooheon jiggles at it, palms sweaty, until the doorknob finally turns and the door gives way.

The first thing he sees is Hyunwoo, torso exposed and back bent to raid the fridge. It would have been a welcoming sight on any other occasion. Jooheon kicks the door behind him, digs his fingers into his pocket for the crumpled piece of paper he’d torn off his windshield wiper, and slams it onto the small dining table before tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter.

Hyunwoo flinches violently at the noise and whips around, a wooden spoon in hand. His pair of thick-framed glasses slides down his nose and he readjusts them before closing the fridge and walking up to Jooheon cautiously.

“I called you a few times. Um. You alright?”

His eyes travel to the slip of paper on the table and widen just a fraction.

“What happened?” He inquires, voice hesitant yet gentle. Jooheon groans and pulls out a chair to plop into before stabbing at his scalp with his fingers. Hyunwoo wouldn’t understand. Because even though the older lost Kihyun figuratively, he didn’t lose him literally, physically. But Jooheon will. Jooheon will lose Minhyuk; it’s as clear and real as the sky, the oceans, the look of concern on Hyunwoo’s face, and the ticket lying scrunched up on the table accusingly.

“Parked at a red zone.”

Hyunwoo purses his lips. “Okay. Well.” He doesn’t really know what to say. “You didn’t answer any of my calls. Was everything okay?”

Jooheon digs for his phone. He turns it on and scowls at the picture of Minhyuk smiling back at him with crinkled eyes and a platter of dumpling before him before his heart starts to hurt again.

Three missed calls from Hyunwoo.

Seven from Kihyun.

Two from Hyungwon.

A few messages he doesn’t have the time to read.

He tosses his phone onto the kitchen counter beside his keys and goes back to burying his head in his hands.

“Is Minhyuk okay?” Hyunwoo asks. He doesn’t normally push, but then again, Jooheon isn’t normally so quietly distressed like this.

“Minhyuk is _fine_.” Still guilty. Jooheon wants to go back and apologize, but a part of him is undeniably bitter at Minhyuk’s words. Said Jooheon has the _choice_ to walk away and leave the pain behind. But Minhyuk is also happiness, and if Jooheon were to abandon him, he’d be leaving _everything_ behind, and Jooheon can’t do that.

“Jooheon,” Hyunwoo whispers, dropping into a crouch to meet his eyes. It’s only then that Jooheon tastes the saltiness of his resentment toward the situation.

“I’ll have nothing,” he finally chokes out, and Hyunwoo sets his wooden spoon down on the wooden floorboards to reach out for him, then pull his hands back, then reach out again, before resigning and letting his hands dangle as his arms rest on his knees.

“I love him,” Jooheon sobs quietly, hands rubbing at his face until everything feels hot, hot, burning, “I really love him.” A verbal confession feels like tangible relief.

“I know…” Hyunwoo’s voice trails off and then picks back up again. “You should go back to him, Jooheon. You’re going to hate yourself later for wasting time.”

Losing Minhyuk goes two ways. But either way, Minhyuk will be gone, and Jooheon wants to push that thought into the furthest recess of his mind, never explore it until it happens. Although he knows he has to come to terms with it. To accept it. To let it be a free thought, yet not a constant reminder. To acknowledge it, and explore the possibilities while still enjoying each other’s presence while they have it.

Jooheon looks up, eyes red and skin blotchy. Hyunwoo’s right. As always. He stands up abruptly and grabs his keys again. He’ll ignore the parking ticket until later. Hyunwoo follows him to the door and watches as he tugs his shoes back on.

Jooheon wipes at his tears and looks at the older. Hyunwoo stares back, eyes soft in that fond way Jooheon’s used to. And Jooheon melts right into his tight hug. Hyunwoo has always felt like a fireplace, or the entire hearth, so warm and welcoming and safe.

Hyunwoo doesn’t know what compels him to hold Jooheon closer, but he does. And his lips brush Jooheon’s cheek for a fraction of a millisecond, and it’s like everything’s suddenly frozen because the world goes silent as Jooheon tenses in his arms.

_Hyunwoo._

Jooheon feels warm, almost feverish, and it’s like he can breathe and can’t all at once; the tightness in his chest is lifted and his once-jittery heart doesn’t come flying right out, but instead plummets straight to his gut.

“Jooheon—“ Hyunwoo draws in a sharp breath and pulls back like someone tore him away.

_Oh_.

Jooheon stumbles back, too, because his mind is hazy, and the floor looks like it’s rotating—was the table always on the right side of the room?—and he blinks. Just blinks. Maybe three times, four, he doesn’t know because he doesn’t count, not when… Not when _Hyunwoo_.

There’s an excruciatingly long moment of silence until Jooheon spins on his heel and goes sprinting out the door, phone in hand as he dials a number by heart.

He can vaguely hear someone calling after him. Maybe it’s the next-door neighbor, maybe it’s Minhyuk’s voice in his head, or maybe it’s—

“Hello?”

“Changkyun, _Changkyun_ , Kyun, _fuck_ , are you at home?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a late update, I am so sorry :(  
> Here's a longer chapter as an apology.  
> I did edit the number of chapters I have planned for this though, just because I wasn't sure if I wanted to end it with just one or more chapters after this one.
> 
> Anyway, here's some showheon that was supposed to be fluffy to ease the pain of angsty joohyuk, but that clearly didn't turn out so well.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed regardless :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maybe things will be okay.

_“And what if neither of us find our soulmates?” Hyunwoo jokes._

_“Then we’ll be soulmates,” Jooheon laughs. “We’ll make it work. We_ live _together.”_

_“I forget you two aren’t soulmates sometimes,” Hoseok chimes in with a giggle, hand on Changkyun’s thigh._

_“Well, you never checked,” Changkyun says, grabbing the hand on his leg and intertwining their fingers. Hoseok blushes and Changkyun pretends not to care but everyone catches him staring, eyes tender and adoring. They’re in their own world again. How many times has it been now? Jooheon’s lost count._

_“We don’t have to check to know. It isn’t us.” Jooheon reaches for the last can of beer in the middle of the coffee table, leg propped up on Hyunwoo’s lap just to feel less out of place with Changkyun and Hoseok being so sickeningly endearing. “Realistically, fate would never pair us together.”_

_“Why not?” Changkyun throws at him, jerking out of eye contact with his doting soulmate. “Fate paired Hoseok and I together, and none of us would have ever imagined.”_

_Hoseok pouts, and Changkyun thumbs at the older’s lips before sensing Jooheon’s scowl and opts for a forehead flick instead. Hoseok rubs at his skin and just pulls Changkyun onto his lap only for the younger to protest with a whine. The older of the two just smiles, holds his soulmate closer, and presses a wet kiss on his cheek. This time, there’s no protest. But for a brief moment, there’s a twisting feeling in Jooheon’s chest, something bitter and aching. It intensifies as Changkyun turns his head to pull Hoseok in for a deeper kiss, eyes heavy-lidded and a hint of a smile playing on his lips as Hoseok’s hands wrap around his waist. Close. Protective. Loving. Jooheon turns away._

_“I’m going to get more beer,” Hyunwoo says, clearing his throat, and leaves the couch to enter the kitchen. Jooheon frowns at the empty space and sits up to reach for the abandoned bowl of chips. Hoseok uses this time to steal another kiss from a back-to-reluctant Changkyun._

_“Gross,” Jooheon groans, flopping back onto the couch with greasy fingers and a mouth full of onion rings._

_Changkyun swats at him, embarrassed, “I didn’t ask for it that time.”_

_“Kyun, don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Hoseok retaliates._

_“Yeah, you haven’t fooled us,” Hyunwoo chuckles, approaching the coffee table with two more cans of beer and a large bag of shrimp crackers tucked in the crook of his arms._

_“Hyunwoo, if we’re going to be last-minute soulmates for each other, let’s never turn out like that,” Jooheon shudders._

_“Agreed.”_

—•—

“We can’t be fucking soulmates. What the fuck?” Jooheon splutters, ignoring how Hoseok runs a soothing hand down his back.

Changkyun stays silent on the couch, eyes peering at Jooheon questioningly over the rim of his mug. He twists in place and then sets the mug down on the coffee table. Jooheon runs a hand down his face and groans as Hoseok nods sympathetically.

“Jooheon,” Changkyun starts, “This isn’t necessarily a… _bad_ thing.” He hesitates, the words milling about in his mind for a bit, before allowing them to slip past his tongue. “I mean… It’s a _good_ thing.”

Jooheon’s head whips around. His mouth gapes open, closing and opening repeatedly before settling for, “Not for Minhyuk.”

There’s a tense moment of silence and then Jooheon bends down into a crouch on the floor, fingers tangling almost painfully in his hair as his shoulders heave wildly in the midst of his panic. “This isn’t right.” He looks up at the soulmate couple, bubbles of tears teetering dangerously on the waterlines of his red-rimmed eyes, “Not fair to Minhyuk. Not fair to Hyunwoo.”

Hoseok gets it then. Gets it because, either way, Jooheon will have to break a heart. And perhaps he already has, because among them, they all know who has Jooheon’s.

Jooheon sees the understanding in Hoseok’s eyes and brings his hand to his mouth to keep his insides at bay. On the one hand, there is Hyunwoo. Sturdy, resilient, emotionally-guarded Hyunwoo. Warm and safe and so, so steady. Familiar in the way that Jooheon takes one glance at him and instantly feels comfort. Because that’s what years of friendship have built. But on the other hand, there is Minhyuk. Honest, live-in-the-moment, yet equally as emotionally-guarded Minhyuk. Stubborn and affectionate, sun-personified Minhyuk who maybe has days left to live.

He feels a hand tug at his own, pulling up, up. It’s Hoseok, gentle eyes and gentle touch, and then Changkyun on the other side, supporting Jooheon from the back (like he always does).

“What?” Jooheon breathes, lips moist from his tears. And yet, there is no salty taste, just bitterness.

“Come on. I’m taking you back,” Hoseok says.

“Back?”

“To the hospital.”

Jooheon’s heart thuds.

“Besides, we were meaning to make a visit either way,” Changkyun’s voice rumbles from behind him.

Jooheon doesn’t say another word. And the car ride to the hospital is quiet too. The car bumps up here and there, but Jooheon doesn’t feel a thing. Or maybe he feels too much that he feels like he can’t feel anything at all. There’s just too much feeling. And feeling, Jooheon now knows, is dangerous, because look where that’s got him.

As Jooheon steps back into the dreaded hospital room, he sees Minhyuk, sitting upright, gaze unwavering, and hands clenching the bedsheets like he was waiting. Always waiting for Jooheon though he doesn’t have enough time; Jooheon will never understand why he does it. He’s not worth it, really.

“Hey,” Hoseok says softly, and Jooheon tears his eyes from Minhyuk’s to watch as the oldest in the room heads for the bed. His hand is outstretched to stroke the back of Minhyuk’s head so very gently.

“Hm, hyung,” Minhyuk hums in acknowledgement. He leans into Hoseok’s touch and smiles wryly. “Was about to think you weren’t going to come see me.” His eyes stray to a quiet Changkyun in the corner, “You too. Come here.”

Changkyun approaches Minhyuk in long strides. His eyes are glassy and everyone can see how he trembles in an effort to keep his composure. He does, as always, holding everything in like he’s doing everyone a favor. Hoseok turns and grabs one of his hands reassuringly. Minhyuk eyes their conjoined hands, eyebrows knitting together, and Jooheon frowns at the split second of sadness that flits across his face.

“Where are Kihyun and Hyungwon?” Hoseok asks, scanning the room.

“You just missed them,” Minhyuk replies with a shrug. “They’re busy with something.”

“With something,” Changkyun repeats, eyebrow raised, earning a squeeze from Hoseok.

“Something,” Minhyuk smirks.

Warmth crawls up Jooheon’s neck.

“Anyway,” Hoseok says, ears pink, “Have you eaten?”

Silence hangs in the air for half a second, “Yeah, with Kihyun and Hyungwon before they left. Don’t worry.” The words slip so easily out of Minhyuk’s mouth that Jooheon knows it’s a lie. Minhyuk, though bluntly honest, can be a good liar when he wants to. Whether that’s something Jooheon wants to know or not is not yet decided.

Hoseok and Changkyun step away from Minhyuk to give him space again. And Hoseok shoots Jooheon a look— _the_ look—which Jooheon somehow has the heart to ignore.

His eyes instead wander through the room, scanning everything that’s either misplaced or changed, like those spot-the-difference pictures on the backs of cereal boxes. He catches an unopened bag in the corner, the smell of _Casablanca Sandwicherie_ lingering in the air, and Jooheon sighs internally, keeping a mental note to thank Kihyun and Hyungwon later.

Grabbing a chair, Jooheon sits back and watches as Hoseok and Changkyun entertain Minhyuk, their back-and-forth banter a stark contrast from the conversation that took place in the same room earlier in the day.

“Heard you moved in together,” Minhyuk says suddenly, sparking Jooheon’s interest. All of a sudden, it makes sense to him why Changkyun’s been at Hoseok’s apartment for a good few days now. It didn’t occur to him at the moment.

Changkyun rubs at the back of his neck, “Yeah.” He prods Hoseok’s arm when the older doesn’t respond.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Hoseok says, looking sheepishly at Minhyuk. Minhyuk stares at him for a moment, deeply, like there are thoughts tossing and turning in his brain.

“You don’t have to keep it from me or something,” Minhyuk finally scoffs. “Like it’s any better to hear it from Hyungwon.”

Changkyun lets out a breathy laugh, “Just thought it wasn’t very appropriate.” He takes a furtive glance at Jooheon that no one misses.

“What, I’m happy for you guys,” Minhyuk shrugs. “I genuinely am. We’ve been placing bets, actually, and now that results are out, I guess Jooheon owes me twenty.”

Hoseok narrows his eyes, “You placed a bet on us?” Jooheon doesn’t know whether the older’s supposed to be angry or not; the pout on his face is hardly threatening.

“Well, yeah,” Minhyuk says before Jooheon can utter a word, “I bet you’d have moved in together much earlier. Can’t keep your hands off each other.” He looks pointedly at the arm around Changkyun’s waist. Hoseok pulls it back, cheeks flushing pink.

“Hyung does it so often, sometimes I forget it’s there,” Changkyun chuckles, and Minhyuk chimes in. Jooheon makes an effort to laugh, but it comes out as a snort, and Hoseok turns around to face him. His eyebrows are raised, his fingers pointing at the door. Like code for: _Want us to leave?_

Jooheon shakes his head. Minhyuk looks happy with Hoseok and Changkyun around. At the moment, Jooheon can’t be that kind of happiness for him.

But Changkyun’s already made the decision for everyone in the room: “Hyung, I forgot to eat. Mind if Hoseok and I make a quick trip for lunch?”

“Kyun, what? We—“ Changkyun slaps a hand over his soulmate’s mouth, smiling like a wolf in sheep’s clothing at Minhyuk.

Minhyuk stares, stares for a little too long maybe, glances at Jooheon, and then sinks back into the hospital pillows. “Ah.”

Changkyun’s already dragging a confused Hoseok out the door by the time Minhyuk nods. Leaving Jooheon alone with him again. Without a word, he walks to the plastic bag in the corner, pulls his chair to the side of the bed, and opens the bag to pull out the half-soggy sandwiches. Minhyuk makes a face, lips tugging downward into a frown as Jooheon unwraps a sandwich and presents it to the older’s face.

“I’m not eating that,” Minhyuk mumbles, a low whine escaping his lips when the younger shoves the sandwich into his mouth anyway.

“You have to eat.“

A momentary pause.

“Hey, I’m sorry? You know?” The apology comes out quiet, a question. Minhyuk chews in between words, eyes downcast. “Didn’t mean to yell at you like that.” His hands come up to take the sandwich as he takes another bite. “In fact, I’m not angry at you. I won’t say anything about the decisions you make anymore. I’m honestly happy that you want to be with me, I just didn’t want you to throw anything away—“

“Hyunwoo is my soulmate.”

Minhyuk’s chewing slows, hands clutching tightly onto his sandwich, even as the wrapping tears. He chews thoughtfully, sets his sandwich down into the bag on Jooheon’s lap, and turns to smile at him.

“I know.”

The seeping cold in Jooheon’s gut ceases as it gets harder to swallow around the growing lump in his throat.

Minhyuk lets out a laugh, and Jooheon stares, looks deep into his eyes for any sign of dissonance.

“Joo, I know,” Minhyuk repeats, voice softer this time. “I knew.”

“What?”

“I’m happy for you.” Minhyuk’s eyes crinkle in that real, genuine way, but no, no, this isn’t right, something isn’t right. Jooheon found his _soulmate_ , Minhyuk’s _not_ his soulmate, this really isn’t something to celebrate? Not now, Jooheon’s not ready.

“Why?” He asks, a break in his voice, a veiled cry, “You’re not supposed to be happy for me. You’re supposed to be upset. This just solidifies everything we’ve been against. I’m supposed to be _your_ soulmate.”

Minhyuk bites his trembling bottom lip and manages a version of a smile.

“I can’t be happier that it’s Hyunwoo. This is good, Joo. This is so good. I know you’ll be in good hands.”

Jooheon nods, the tiles on the floor blurring together into one giant mass of off-white, “Hyunwoo is a good person, and that’s the problem. Because he’ll sacrifice everything for me, give me what I want when I want it. I was given a chance with you, and now I’m given a chance with him, but I don’t deserve it.”

Minhyuk stares with heavy eyes.

“I blew it with you, too. I couldn’t give you anything while you still had time.” Jooheon wipes at his eyes roughly with the sleeve of his jacket.

“But I didn’t have nothing,” Minhyuk whispers, grabbing Jooheon’s hands and thumbing at the tear stains on the fabric. “I had you.”

“I’m not much.”

“You are much. You’re _so_ much. You’re _this_ much.” Minhyuk holds up a fist and Jooheon chuckles through his tears.

“That’s not much.”

“Yeah?” Minhyuk places his fist against his chest with a small smile, “Well, this is all that fits into my heart.”

“You didn’t take lessons from Kihyun, did you?”

“Take it or leave it, Joo.”

—•—

The flowers in Hyunwoo’s hands feel heavy. Like suddenly they’ve transformed into molten lead in his hands, tainting his fingers black and holding them in place. He’d asked the florist for anything _not white;_ its implications are hardly appropriate. But suddenly the yellow is much worse, too bright. Not appropriate. Is anything appropriate regarding the entire situation?

The smell of chemicals awakens the acid in his stomach. Hyunwoo’s never liked hospitals. Especially now, when Jooheon’s only happiness lies in one of the rooms, _not_ happy. Anything but the brightness clutched tightly in his hands.

Hyunwoo’s never liked flowers either.

When he opens the door, the chemical smell subsides just enough to ease the tightness in his chest. The room smells like lavender and… dumplings?

The entire vicinity is submerged in a sea of awkward silence and really, Hyunwoo is not unfamiliar with it, but this time it’s a little worse. A little more suffocating, and more so with each step he takes toward the bed.

Minhyuk turns then, eyes wide (though he’s been expecting this visit), and Hyunwoo’s heart stops in his chest because the other looks so small. It seemed just like yesterday he opened the door to let Minhyuk in for dinner with him and Jooheon, the liveliness in his eyes a very remarkable first impression.

 _So you’re the hot roommate Jooheon’s been hogging all to himself,_ had been the first words Minhyuk’s uttered to him. Remarkable first impression indeed.

Now, Minhyuk looks tired as he smiles, tired as he says, “Oh, wow, are those sunflowers?” with heavy breaths. Hyunwoo can see the way Minhyuk attempts to hide a wince. Minhyuk’s always been so good at keeping his emotions at bay, but at the moment, the younger holds his heart on his sleeve, exposing it to Hyunwoo, _trusting_ him, and Hyunwoo’s rehearsed several times what he wanted to say, mulled it over in his brain before and during the drive here, but the first word that tumbles out of his mouth is, “I’m sorry.”

He sets the flowers on the chair beside the bed (doesn’t even let himself sit) and mumbles the apology a second time.

Minhyuk sits up straighter, lines on his forehead at the sudden confusion that takes over, “What are you talking about?” But he knows, because Minhyuk always knows.

There’s another bout of silence where Hyunwoo stays standing awkwardly. He can’t look at Minhyuk.

There’s a sigh and then a, “I’m the one who should apologize.”

Hyunwoo’s head snaps up, eyes straying from the floor.

“I took your place. I squeezed between something I shouldn’t have.”

 _Took your place_. It would be a lie if Hyunwoo said he hasn’t thought of it before. What life would have been like had Minhyuk not been in the picture. What it would have been like had he discovered that Jooheon is his soulmate and not have to quell his own hopes knowing that there is no chance for him. Hyunwoo has thought about it a lot. Far too much for anyone to call him a good person anymore. Hyunwoo thinks they overestimate him.

Still, Hyunwoo could and would never blame Minhyuk. Because fate has a funny way of putting things together, and Minhyuk was only caught in the crossfire.

“I can easily say Jooheon loved me, but it’s different,” Minhyuk says. He glances at the sunflowers on the chair. “You’re his soulmate and I’m not.”

“Even if Jooheon and I are soulmates,” there’s a crack in his voice as Hyunwoo speaks, “the only difference between you and I is that I can never make him as happy as you did.”

Saying those words is a cathartic release. Hyunwoo finally feels like he’s become truthful to himself, like he’s freed his heart from the same cycle of drowning itself down to his toes. He can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but it hurts less. And that’s a step forward.

“Like I said, Jooheon’s your _soulmate_ ,” Minhyuk reiterates, eyes dull. “There’s no way you can’t make him happier.”

Amidst his hurt, Hyunwoo chuckles softly, “Maybe that’s exactly the reason why. Sometimes, there’s a raw authenticity in the love between two humans rather than two soulmates.” Thoughts of Kihyun flash through his mind.

Minhyuk sits in pensive silence, reaching over and grabbing the bouquet of sunflowers. Hyunwoo watches as he pets the petals so softly, so tenderly.

“You think he’ll remember me years from now?” Minhyuk’s throat is tight, mirroring the feeling in his chest.

Hyunwoo smiles reassuringly, “I know he will.”

“And you’ll take care of him for me?”

“Of course.”

“Hyung, will you give me a hug?”

Hyunwoo looks up in surprise, freezing when he sees Minhyuk squeezing the flowers against his chest as an alternative to what’s not present. Without a word, he approaches the bed and pulls the younger close. Closer than he ever has because he knows it might be his last chance.

—•—

The next time Jooheon visits, Minhyuk uses his wish he earned on the day of first snow a few months ago. And when Jooheon kisses Minhyuk, he pours into it what little space Minhyuk left in his heart.

“You’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re so unnecessarily caring and generous and—“ Jooheon dissolves into tears by the end, and Minhyuk holds him with a breathy laugh.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“So you can remember me, and take my words with you when you leave.”

Minhyuk doesn’t respond. Just runs his fingers along Jooheon’s skin, traces his nose down to his jaw, kisses the dip of his collarbone.

And Jooheon lets him.

—•—

“Hyung, I love you. Will you remember that, too?”

“Of course I will. Now shut up and play League with me. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

—•—

It’s the first day of spring when Jooheon loses his happiness.

And his biggest regret is not being in there with him. Because he knows if there’s anything that would have broken him, it’s watching Minhyuk take his last breaths. Watching him waste the remaining oxygen in his lungs just to whisper “I love you” one more time. Jooheon wants Minhyuk to remember him smiling. He wants Minhyuk to take with him the best memories they had together.

Instead, Changkyun held him close, rocked him back and forth like a child, told him “he’s still with you” until Jooheon cried himself dry.

Because as much as it’s true, it isn’t.

Jooheon sighs, shaky breath coming out like smoke with the remnants of winter still lingering. It’s cold, and Jooheon buries his face deeper into the plaid scarf around his neck. The cold is deeper, bitter, this year.

Removing the gloves from his hands, Jooheon grasps something familiar. He fiddles with it, twirls it between his fingers, lets it rest in his hand. It’s familiar, but this time it’s different.

When he finally starts the beat, his lips move on autopilot. The steady _thump thump_ of the pedal and clashing of the cymbals are his own version of wind chimes signaling that he’s home.

Jooheon breathes into the microphone, verse after verse, keeping his eyes on the crowd. He doesn’t care if there are two people or a million, but he catches familiar faces. There’s Hoseok leaning against his van, Changkyun in his arms. Kihyun and Hyungwon stand nearby among strangers, Hyungwon’s eyes closed. And then there’s Hyunwoo, quite a distance away but still crystal clear. He has a hint of a smile on his face, sad but reassuring. He’s proud of Jooheon. Has always been.

Jooheon raps the last word with a sharp breath and drops his drumsticks. He doesn’t know where they went, and he doesn’t care. Just lifts his head to the sky and closes his eyes. He smells dumplings, sees cream sweaters and blond strands behind closed lids. He feels the ghost of a touch along his back, smoothing over the crinkles in his jacket.

Something wet and cold lands on his face, and he blinks his eyes open. The sun is nowhere to be seen, storm clouds parading the vast expanse of what was once a meek blue.

It’s welcoming. And startlingly familiar.

_“What kinds of new beginnings?”_

A breath.

Two.

And Jooheon knows he’ll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished!
> 
> That took such a while to update, forgive me ;(  
> Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed. This story went through a wild rollercoaster of angst, brief fluff, angst, brief fluff; I hope it didn't give you too much whiplash.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, leaving kudos, comments, anything really! I'm just so thankful to have anyone read it at all. I appreciate everything.
> 
> ♡


End file.
